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The wind howls outside the large Medea transport plane, Alab II as the continent of Africa passes beneath them. The heavy rumbles of the transport's engines are pierced by the screams of Tin Cod fighters flying escort. Corporal Hector Lagrama managed to get six Tin Cods to accompany them on this drop into the heart of Africa. The Federal fighters are guided by his Dish aircraft, circling at a higher altitude. The trip has been uneventful so far, boredom gripping his MS Team. His two Privates sat in the cockpits of their mobile suits. Front in line to jump is Lagrama himself. The man is a natural combat soldier and his GMPGT shows it. Behind Lagrama is Ecija Reyes in a regular RGM-79 GM. Behind him is Raja Levi in a second GMPGT. They are about an hour's journey from the drop zone. An hour's journey until the doors burst open and off they would go… That is until the Dish aircraft started chattering like a hysterical radio announcer. The Alab II rocks sideways as explosions burst around it. Lagrama's mobile suit team tumbles around as he tries to get a handle on the situation. Outside, the Tin Cod made a dive to the ground where the gunfire is coming from. Below them is the Karakals patrol from the Duchy of Zeon. Lead by the experienced Roy Greenwood in his Dom TTT, the Desert Zakus flew across the desert on their jet skis. Together they threw hell and heaven up at the Medea and her escorts. Expert fire and maneuver swatted four of the six escorting Tin Cods from the sky. The air around the Alab II grew brighter with more tracers. Lagrama heard about the losses he is suffering and issued a prompt order to his units. The Medea climbed the best it could until it orbited with the Dish aircraft. High above the firing range of the Karakals, the surviving Federal units turned around. Lagrama won't be surprised that, had he continued to his drop zone, there would be more than just five Zeon mobile suits waiting for him. He will have to tryhis luck another day. Hector Lagrama 3 VP gained, no damage "And you're sure we should just destroy it?" Ion Bossa-Nova, perhaps the shortest pilot in the entire Federation military, asked as she finished hooking her Long Range Beam Rifle to the Big Tray ships reactor. The GM Sniper pilot assigned to the ship had already done the same on the opposite side of the hovercraft, and was already aiming at the Zeon resource operation of RF-2. "Yes, there is too much Zeon activity to hold it long enough to strip mine it first." Tobias Obrien stated from the bridge of the Eriu, unable to do anything but supervise the operation while his GM was being repaired. "You two take out everything you can while this ship shells the installation, the rest of the mobile suits and aircraft will move in to wipe out the rest." Ion frowned, but nodded in response as she set her GM Sniper into position. Standing up straighter, like he assumed a ship's commander should before ordering an operation to begin, Tobias gazed at the relatively tiny operation ahead of him. "Commence the attack then." The big guns on the Eriu boomed soon after, followed by the bright pink glow of two seperate high power beams sweeping across the mine proper. After ten minutes, the guns fell silent as the remaining forces moved in to finish what resistance might remain. It was all over in under an hour. Tobias Kendrick Obrien: 7/2 VP gained, no damage Ion Bossa-Nova: 7 VP gained, no damage The 86th Independent Fleet moved slowly but steadily across the southeastern Pacific Ocean, aiming to enter Federation controlled South America. The Gaw Lillith, sunlight reflecting off its armored purple hull, flew at a low-level, protecting the slower moving transport that was ferrying the Dobday Resolution across the Pacific Ocean. Off to the north, the Krueger, a Gallop-class land battleship, floated effortlessly over the calm ocean waters, and to the south, the Jukon Stovokor prowled several dozen feet underneath the water's surface. "Sergeant?" one of the Resolution's senior officers asked. Eugene Rice-Ionesco, who had been lounging on the rear part of the Dobday, turned to face the approaching soldier. "What?" "We have contacts on the horizon, probably fifteen minutes out. The Luggan spotted them," the soldier replied. Eugene heaved himself to his feet. "What kind of contacts?" "Aircraft, sir. Ten of them." "Deploy the rest of our aircraft," Eugene ordered, "And sortie the Lillith's MS and prep my Zaku." The senior Dobday officer saluted. "Yes, sir!" Lieutenant Jason Relek sighed as he examined his radar screen as it slowly fizzled into static. Interference from M-particles, he thought. His Tin Cod, followed closely behind by the other three fighters of the 198th Fighter Division and the six Fly Mantas of the 151st Fly Manta Division had been ordered to engage a Zeon fleet that had been moving towards Federation-controlled South America, one of the few remaining bastions of Federation power on Earth. "Us Tin Cods," Jason ordered over his radio, "Will try to hold off the fighters and any cyclops's. Fly Mantas, focus on the warships." A chorus of solemn replies responded to Jason's orders. He felt their pain. The ten aircraft had no chance to hold off the Zeon fleet. "Do your best," Jason continued, "The Federation will remember your sacrifice." Eugene's Zaku II-G maneuvered on the top hull of the Resolution, equipped with a 280mm bazooka. Next to him, a Zaku Cannon prepared itself for battle. Two Doms, both equipped with 360mm giant bazookas, raced atop the calm waters of the Pacific Ocean, watching the skies. Above, three Dodais carrying Zakus and eight Dopps sortied from the fleet's Gaw. Checking his mobile suit's weapon load outs on his onboard computer, Eugene eagerly awaited battle. He didn't have to wait long. Turning his eyes eastwards, he watched silently as the Dopps streaked forward to engage the Tin Cods. Missiles flew back and forth between the groups, several striking home. The burning husks of a pair of Dopps, a Tin Cod, and a Fly Manta fell downwards, slamming into the ocean. The Federation aircraft raced pass the Zeon fighters, heading straight for the fleet. Eugene raised his 280mm bazooka, firing a pair of rounds. Both streaked off into the sky, but one of the Doms, who had maneuvered closer towards the air battle, knocked a Fly Manta out of the sky. The Federation forces ran a gauntlet of fire as they closed towards the Gaw, the warships of the Zeon fleet opening up with their anti-aircraft batteries. It was worth the carnage, however, for the Federation, as the remaining Fly Mantas fired their remaining missile payloads, landing a dozen missiles against the forward hull section, ripping and tearing away the steel armor. Eugene cringed as he watched the damaged Gaw turn northwards, bringing more of its anti-aircraft batteries to bear on the remaining Federation aircraft. Two more Fly Manta's were annihilated by the Lillith, their burning corpses splashing into the ocean below, while the rest of the Federation aircraft beat a hasty retreat, their attack on the Gaw a success. A pair of Tin Cods swung south on their path of retreat, intent on strafing the ferry transporting the Resolution. Eugene swung his 280mm bazooka towards the incoming Tin Cods, and he blazed away, loosing two rounds. The first fighter exploded, debris slamming into the Resolution as well as Eugene's Zaku. He was not so lucky with the second fighter, which fired a trio of missiles, two of which slammed home against his Zaku's chest plate. "Damnit," Eugene cursed as the Tin Cod streaked away, eastwards. "They appear to be retreating, Sergeant," a voice announced over the radio. "Excellent," Eugene replied, smiling. Things seemed to be going well for the Zeon forces. "Things seem to be proceeding well, Captain," 2nd Lieutenant Doughtery announced, grinning. Doughtery stood on the crowded command hub of the Jukon-class submarine Stovokor. Captain Richards watched the forward sonar screen passively as the rest of the bridge crew celebrated yet another Zeon victory. "Oh...," the sonar operator suddenly announced, "Shit!" "What?" Captain Richards asked, moving to the forward section of the bridge to get a better angle on the sonar screen. "Contacts, four of them," the operator replied. "I have no fucking clue what they are." "Cicle the sub, boys," Major Arlan Felch ordered. Arlan and his team of mobile suit pilots had picked up their orders just ten minutes ago, maneuvering their freshly constructed GM Aquas towards the Zeon submarine. Each of the GM Aquas, specifically designed for underwater combat, were equipped with large, shoulder mounted anti-ship torpedoes. "Let's fuck this duck," one of the other pilots of the Experimental Anti-Marine MS Team. Moving at full speed, the GMs quickly approached the Jukon, spreading out. The enemy vessel began to maneuver itself, trying to avoid the approaching GMs. "Fire as soon as you get a lock," Arlan announced, bringing his own targeting computer online. As his GM Aqua approached, he lined up the shot. He slowly depressed the firing trigger and his mobile suit shuddered as the torpedo shot out of the GM's shoulder mount. Streaking through the water, it struck against the hull of the Jukon, exploding violently. Three more massive anti-ship torpedoes slammed into the hull as well, sending a ripple of explosions up and down the hull of the Jukon. "What was the that?" Eugene demanded, watching as water sprayed skywards off to the north of the Resolution. "It must have been the Jukon!" the captain of the Dobday replied over the radio, equally shocked. A second explosion sent more water skywards and debris began to float to the surface. "My god," the Dobday's captain suddenly yelled. "Sergeant, we've gotten a short radio burst from the Stovokor. They claimed, before they went silent, that they were attacked by underwater GMs." "Bullshit," Eugene said, shocked. "Pull back before they sink the Resolution!" Eugene Rice-Ionesco: 7 VP gained, 1 days Damage |