The bar was quiet and essentially deserted, with a few regulars at their usual spots – the wood in the stools was slightly deformed from the same set of rears occupying them for great numbers and lengths of times. They, along with the French-speaking dark-skinned barkeeper, regarding the two newcomers at a corner booth coolly, and the pair offered them the same warmth.
“Pretty handy of you, getting these documents like that,” Scarth Maheart remarked casually, flipping between the oversized pages covered in technical diagrams.
“I’m a pretty handy person,” Junius Lethe replied, pointing out a few annotations he’d made with a red pen. “That tunneling mobile armor of yours is exactly what we need to really put a number on those Alliance fops. You’ll have to make explicitly sure to avoid coming up in a missile magazine, obviously…”
“The subsurface radar will take care of that, fear not,” Scarth responded, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “Is that gaudy thing of yours really going to be able to handle all the topside stuff until I get there, though?” he asked, pointing over his shoulder with a thumb. He pointed at a wall, obviously, but his target was quite clearly intended to be beyond that.
“It’s got the best barrier in the world, as far as I know. Don’t worry about me, you just make sure you get inside and wreck up the place,” Junius smiled with a slightly malicious tinge. “Just make sure you don’t damage the command facility, there’s valuable information on their data center.”
“Valuable information, eh…” the tall, scruffy pilot remarked. “Who do you work for, anyway? Pardon my curiosity, it’s… part of the job, you might say.”
“I’m afraid that’s classified, Marxist,” the much-shorter Junius grinned, tugging on the tips of his mustache like an old Fritz Lang villain. “Anyway. As long as you break into the interior on the dot, everything will go just dandy. Don’t be late!”
“Late? Never,” Scarth replied, reaching down to shake Junius’ hand. “See you in Barbados.”

—

Under 200 miles to the northeast and a few hours later, a quartet of black Aries buzzed above the ocean at speed, beginning the fourth leg of their patrol. They travelled in a formation looking like the tips of a finger, the middle and ring fingers forming the flight leaders and the index and pinkies their wingmen.
“With all due respect, Captain, I don’t think we’ll be running into any more mobile suits after the last one…”
“Don’t buffalo me, Lieutenant. We’re going on high security because there’s a rogue mobile suit in the area – just because it ran away yesterday doesn’t mean it won’t be back today!”
“Well, sure, but…”
“But nothing! Keep your eyes peeled and focus on your mission, pilot. The life you save may be your own!”
“Ah… understood, Captain.”
“Good. Now then, when was the last time we made a report to-”
“Captain, look at that! It’s… golden?”
“Well, how about that! An unidentified mobile suit! Our first catch of the day.”
“How can it fly like that on its own…?”
“We’ll conduct an autopsy later! First one to score a good kill is buying the beer! Tallyho!”
“Damn it, Captain! That’s not… bah! Follow up and put your missiles up the bogey’s ass!”

Junius seemed a bit irked when his proximity indicator began buzzing.
“Why the hell do they have patrols all the way out here…!” he growled. Thanks to particle interference he’d hoped to be able to at least make landfall before they started blasting him. “Well, no matter. You get fried first…” the Alvaaron came to a halt, hovering in mid-air on its GN Drive. The two golden wings swung forward and leveled down at the four black dots screaming towards him. Junius flipped a button and yellow-orange energy began condensing into a ball between the wingtips, purplish lightning crackling around it. “Sweet dreams,” he remarked, pulling the trigger. An enormous beam burst out from before him, passing closely between two Aries. One’s armor buckled and crumpled, the thin-skinned mobile suit collapsing and toppling out of the air like a rock; the other’s paint sizzled and visor cracked but otherwise remained in the air.

“Shit, it’s got a beam cannon! Break, break, break!” the three remaining Aries abruptly scattered.
“Calm down! Keep juking, spread out and let him have it! Something with that kind of firepower will be a total pig compared to our Aries!” the black mobile suits waggled their wings and dove towards Junius’ Alvaaron, each releasing a quartet of missiles that corkscrewed towards his position.

“Oh, come on,” Junius frowned, twelve red dots appearing on the Alvaaron’s spacious cockpit screens indicating the incoming missiles. “I’m going to have to flatten all of these guys…” The Alvaaron’s wings folded up in front of it and a golden GN Field sprung into life just in time to intercept the missiles, their warheads detonating harmlessly against the barrier. Junius tapped his fingers impatiently as the smoke was dissipated by the strong trade winds just in time to see the three Aries screaming past him. He quickly whipped the Alvaaron around and began taking slow, aimed shots with his GN Rifle, clipping the wing of one of the mobile suits as it began turning around to make another pass but unable to score a direct hit.

“It has a barrier too! We’re screwed…!”
“Our weapons are useless as long as he has that field up, and it has beam rifles as well… fall back to the base!”
“What if it follows us?!”
“That’s the idea, Lieutenant! Hello, headquarters! There’s a rogue mobile suit engaging us at 58.45 North, 55.06 West! Request artillery support!”

—

Scarth waited in the Geo-GOOhN’s cockpit, arms crossed as the timer slowly ticked down towards when he’d begin his vertical tunneling into the base’s subterranean bunkers. The plans showed that there weren’t any specialized vibration detection systems in place, but nevertheless he felt it was better safe than sorry. He accounted for another two minutes to get up inside beyond Junius’ stated attack point to accommodate for the greater distance he’d have to dig. Otherwise, there wasn’t terribly much he could do but wait for the buzzer to announce the commencement of the operation.
“I wonder if that boy’s making good time…”

—

Leos shouldered their bazookas with antiaircraft rounds and assumed positions around the perimeter of the walled citadel, training their sights skyward.
“Attention all personnel! A rogue mobile suit is approaching from the southwest! All personnel to your posts at once!” an announcement system blared. “Missiles will be outgoing shortly! Clear backwash areas immediately! This is not a drill!” As the gunners adjusted the firing apertures of their laser cannons along the wall a number of gigantic metallic boxes the size of several mobile suits stacked together began rising out of the base interior on thick hydraulic rams. These slowly rotated towards the south, firing ports opening to reveal giant long-range missiles almost as tall as the Leos below them.
“Commencing missile launch!”
The white spears burst out of their housings and tore skyward, leaving thick plumes behind them. No sooner had the first wave left than another missile emerged through the smoke of the one before it, and eventually the entire base was temporarily choked with roiling exhaust clouds that slowly dispersed by the prevalent winds, rolling down the hills around the citadel.

—

“Oh good,” Junius noted as the three remaining Aries pulled back and lit up their afterburners in the direction of the base, one trailing smoke from a damaged wingtip. The Alvaaron’s GN Drive blasted a stream of red particles out behind it and gave chase, the island of Barbados and his final objective appearing as a little brown speck on the horizon. “Save me the trouble of having to shoot them down one at a time…” he said, gaining altitude and cruising as if suspended by the golden wings on his mobile suit’s back. Junius began to ponder how it seemed as if the island was on fire as he got closer – a column of thick smoke had risen into the air, where it was diffusing in the winds. What bothered him was how it abruptly stopped at about the same altitude he was cruising at.

“Chew on that, bandit!” the Aries scooted by as a virtual storm of white artillery missiles streaked by them in the opposite direction, leaving thick trails of billowing smoke behind them.

Junius’ frown grew massively larger as the incoming threat indicators seemed to be multiplying into fully forty angry red triangles that were all closing in on his position.
“They’re really going all out,” he remarked with some shock. A schematic appeared in the corner of his wraparound monitor showing the specification of the giant missile, indicating where the boosters dropped off and the warhead’s location. “But you guys picked the wrong weapon to use against this Alvaaron!” he smirked, the wings snapping into a more maneuverable position and quickly darting him below the missiles’ approach vector. The giant poles began sluggishly turning to attempt to follow with his sudden change of course, but their massive velocity and inertia was acting against them, and there was no way they’d be able to quickly drop enough altitude to maintain an impact course.
“Now for the base itself,” Junius stated, checking his particle level and making sure everything was ready for close combat. Suddenly, his screen was absolutely flooded with warning indicators. “…what the…” he began. Each of the giant rockets had shed its nosecone, revealing about thirty micromissiles in staggered rows around a central spine. The tiny, quick-tracking missiles burst outwards, leaving the now-void rockets to sail on harmlessly until they ran out of fuel. What had been about forty giant missiles had become hundreds on hundreds of lightweight bombs streaking towards him. Junius’ face drained of color for a moment and he quickly fired up his GN Field, knowing he’d have no way to avoid an onslaught like that. The cloud of micromissiles barreled into the golden yellow ball and exploded riotously, doing no damage to the Alvaaron but the sheer force of the blast smashing it through the surface of the waves below.

—

Scarth’s buzzer went off.
“Right,” he said flatly, cracking his wrists and knuckles as he reached for the control levers. “Time to start the fireworks…” The Geo-GOOhN’s mono-eye lit up and its great clawed hands extended up, tearing into the rather loose rocks above and starting to dig vigorously. The giant digging claws tore into the rock and dirt, flinging them behind the mobile armor’s bulbous head/body as it tunneled upward with relative rapidity. Its equally clawed feet anchored into the wall of the vertical tunnel he was making, allowing him to continue to advance straight up. The Geo-GOOhN’s head and shoulders acted as something of a shovel to aid in his ascent, and the subsurface radar began painting the outlines of the giant missile magazines he’d been warned to avoid. Scarth made a few course corrections and continued to tunnel with great vigor.
Right on schedule, a crack formed in the concrete of the Barbados base’s concourse. Another followed it swiftly, and a moment later a hole erupted as giant slabs of the stuff flew into the air, twisted and torn rebar dangling out of the edges. Scarth broke the surface, pulling the Geo-GOOhN partially out with its claws, emerging into a base that was still apparently in totally organized, functional condition.
“…oh,” he remarked dryly. “He wasn’t making good time at all.” A Leo at its position behind the wall caught a glimpse of the gray shovel-headed machine and abruptly turned around, obviously surprised to see such a thing inside the perimeter of their citadel. The heavy rocket launchers, having descended into their magazines to reload and re-emerged, fired off a second salvo that broke the Mexican standoff. The Leo fired its bazooka and Scarth propelled his mobile armor into the air; the antiaircraft round exploded like a shotgun, embedding shards of shrapnel into the Geo-GOOhN but doing little more than scar its thick armor plating. Scarth landed on top of the green mobile suit and smashed its head and pelvic area with his mobile armor’s prodigious feet, eliciting the attention of the other Leos rather sharply.
“Emergency! An unknown mobile weapon has penetrated the perimeter! All units neutralize the enemy with extreme prejudice!” the announcement system howled.
“Great,” Scarth remarked bitterly, grabbing the Leo with his claws and hurling it at the closest one to him, bowling over both mobile suits into a heap. The Leos abruptly began dropping their bazookas, a few drawing beam pistols and others reaching for their beam sabers, obviously intending to make the best of a melee battle. The Geo-GOOhN’s maser cannons fired, perforating another Leo through the upper body and dropping it to the deck amid small puffs of smoke and random electrical discharges from its fried systems.
Not a moment later, the closest Leos charged him, rushing with their shields in front, the ones somewhat further away opening fire with their pistols. Two shots struck Scarth’s mobile armor’s body, holing it all the way through but missing any critical components. He performed another stunning jump, effectively somersaulting over the pair of Leos that swung their beam sabers at his previous position, landing rather gracefully in spite of his crab-like appearance behind them. A swift slapping motion slammed a Leo into the wall and his other claw grappled the second’s arm, trapping its beam saber. He unloaded the masers a second time, beams passing right over the shoulders of the shorter Leo he was grappling and disarming the one behind him. Undeterred, the grappled Leo drew a second beam saber and jammed it into the Geo-GOOhN’s body.
Scarth cursed as a bevy of system error alerts and warning messages flooded his screens. He flung the offending Leo into the one that he’d smacked into the wall a moment before, temporarily disabling the both of them but was promptly struck by another direct hit from a beam weapon.
“I thought you were supposed to be punctural…” he muttered, wondering where the hell Junius had gotten himself to.

—

“Did they use enough missiles?” Junius said in sarcastic disbelief, the Alvaaron drifting through the water towards Barbados at somewhat reduced speed. He was undamaged, but protecting him from the absurd bombardment had eaten up a frighteningly large chunk of his particle reserves. He was not relishing the idea of having to drop his GN Field to avoid running out of energy, especially with the artillery the base was lobbing at him. As if on cue, his sensors warned him of dozens of objects touching down in the water a distance ahead of him.
“They’ve got torpedoes too?!” Junius exclaimed with total disdain as their motors kicked in and began humming towards him, bubbly streaks in the water marking their path. Deciding to bite the bullet and take a risk, he rocketed straight upward and broke the surface again to avoid the torpedoes. Barbados was tantalizingly close. More importantly, he noted a few columns of smoke indicative of damaged or destroyed mobile suits emerging from the gray citadel in the center of the island.
“Scarth made it…” he remarked with satisfaction, gunning for the beach. Skimming across the water, he hoped the citadel’s long-range missile batteries wouldn’t be able to accurately target him, and his position proved correct – the golden mobile suit’s feet hit sand and skidded to a halt. Junius took a moment to congratulate himself on a good plan coming to fruition, then bolted for the dense jungles up the beach.
He only made it about halfway before a massive explosion tore several great holes in the Alvaaron’s foot and leg.
“Oh, of course, they mined the entire beach too, how foolish of me,” Junius muttered with virulent sarcasm, quickly getting into the air again. The limb remained attached to the Alvaaron’s body, but was useless in its current condition. He hoped he wouldn’t need to do any walking and jetted ahead over the canopy, moving towards the citadel at full speed. He was easily within the minimum range of the heavy missile batteries, but the quick-tracking antiaircraft launchers were another story, and his monitor was infuriatingly lit up with tracking warnings before long. Junius abruptly gained altitude and made a hard turn, pressing him sharply against the cockpit’s restraints and feeling the G-forces pulling blood out of his head, the missiles overshooting their target but only taking a few moments to re-orient themselves and close in from behind.
“Persistent little…” he said angrily, about to add an expletive when the citadel’s antiaircraft laser cannons opened fire. He reflexively powered on the GN Field and the beams deflected off harmlessly, but he was promptly thrown forward as the missiles struck him from behind. Only a quick reaction allowed him to avoid being smashed into the outer wall, the Alvaaron stabilizing itself just above the base perimeter.
“Oh, Junius, so glad to see you,” Scarth noted from below.
“I was a bit delayed in arriving,” the former remarked. His GN Field was struck by yet more missiles as a trio of familiar-looking Aries suddenly emerged from behind the tall command structure in the center of the base, hovering in place and dumping their missile pods at him. An emergency alert began sounding, indicating he was dangerously low on particles. Junius cursed bitterly when he realized the GN Field would be disabled to avoid completely draining his particle reserves.
Below, Scarth found himself surrounded by the remaining Leos. None of them wanted to rush the battered but still dangerous-looking mobile armor first, and Scarth wisely deduced that if he was able to make it to one of them and start tearing it up, the others would run him through. The immediate motivation, however, was when the nearest laser cannon began rotating and its barrels assuming a negative angle.
“Hell. Alright, Junius, I think it’s closing time!” Scarth announced.
“Just hold them off for a little bit longer!” Junius exclaimed, taking potshots at the Aries with his GN Rifle and then quickly bringing the Field up again to avoid their missile retaliation. The command tower was so close, its computers surely held the information he was looking for…
“If you want to do overtime, go right ahead,” Scarth said. “I’m clocking out. Do svidaniya.” He wasn’t ethnically Russian, but as a member of the Human Reform League’s Committee for State Security, speaking the language was more or less mandatory. With that, the Geo-GOOhN propelled itself into the air and neatly dove back into the hole it emerged from, the Leos charging towards it but unable to get any hits in. Junius gritted his teeth as he saw his cover breaking off the engagement, and was downright infuriated when a Leo propelled itself into the air on its jumpjets and slammed a beam saber into his barrier. The GN Field fizzled. Junius’ grip on the control sticks nearly snapped them in half, and he consigned himself to defeat as he blasted the offending Leo’s head off with a point-blank shot from his GN Rifle. The nearly-depleted Alvaaron dropped out of the air and into Scarth’s tunnel, snapping off its golden wings at the mouth of the chasm. The Aries landed and began unloading their rifles into the dark abyss, shell casings raining down like a storm, but it was unclear if they did any damage to the retreating assailants, and none of the remaining mobile suits had any interest in giving chase.

OUTCOME: Barbados remains, 4 Leos destroyed, 1 Aries destroyed, base concourse damaged

Alvatore: 3 days damage, 13 VP
Geo-GOOhN: 3 days damage, 15 VP