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Over a century ago, the mechanized forces of Edwin Rommel's Afrika Korp clashed with Bernard Montgomery's 8th Army on these very sands. The North African desert lay cluttered with the shattered hulls of various tanks and their dead crew. These tombs, half buried by sand, still protrude into the air; warning others of the blood spilled here. Then, three dark shadows flew past the modern killing machines of the past. The modern killing machines of today move on two legs and for the Desert Zakus, this meant two legs on jet skis. The expert pilots of the Pink Panther continue on their patrol, searching for any Federal incursions into the area. Suddenly, the leader stops and motions for the team to disengage their jet skis. The three Zaku Ds lay prone in the sand. On the horizon, a small cloud of sand is forming. Someone is approaching. They each reach for their H&L-SB25K 280mm Zaku Bazooka while two of them knelt down into firing position for their Leg Missile Launcher. Above them, a single Dish aircraft is flying formation with her two Jet Core Booster escorts. Below and behind them is the Big Tray-class Lackluster Fortune and her combat air patrol of five more Jet Core Boosters. Suddenly, the crew of the Dish aircraft started screaming about smoke columns and imminent missile threat. Their urgent warnings to the Lackluster Fortune is soon coupled with the alert of three Desert Zakus racing at the Big Tray. Daren Sanders burst onto the bridge of the Lackluster Fortune and before anyone said anything he knew they were intercepted by a Zeon patrol. His orders to scramble all Jet Core Boosters and mobile suits are soon met by the twin screaming engines of aircraft taking off. The squadron leader of the five Jet Core Boosters already in the air easily spotted the three Zeon mobile suits. Their 40mm anti-tank cannons tore up the sand around the Zaku D's as they made their strafing run. The Desert Zakus let off a salvo of bazooka rounds just as their Leg Missiles explode harmlessly around the Lackluster Fortune. They can see more aircraft lifting off from the Big Tray and the three of them kicked their jet skis into high gear and charged. One of them switched to their 120mm Zaku Machinegun and began blasting at the harassing aircraft. But the original five Jet Core Boosters now became eight and the poor Zeon pilot can't cover his comrade's advance much longer. The Desert Zaku's left jet ski caught in the sand and toppled over. The mobile suit came to a stop a hundred meters away. It finally exploded in a grand funeral pyre when armor piercing 40mm anti-tank rounds chewed it to bits. The remaining two Desert Zakus broke away from each other in order to split up the pursing aircraft. Suddenly, two blooms came from the Lackluster Fortune and the two 120mm howitzer shells near topple another Desert Zaku to the ground. The Guntank MPT rumbled on threads from another age and continued its interdiction bombardment. Two of Daren Sander's MS Team jumped down onto the desert sand and began running towards the Desert Zakus. The Gundam MPGT and the GM Ground cradle their 100mm machineguns as they close the distance. Very quickly, the two Desert Zakus have veered so far off course; they couldn't get any closer to the Big Tray. They began shooting their Zaku machineguns at whatever target got close enough and throwing their grenades in futile. One Desert Zaku received a direct 120mm round to its right knee and promptly fell on its rear. The pilot managed to empty the rest of his ammo drum at the aircraft above before the massive guns of the Lackluster Fortune dropped a broadside on him. The last and most experienced pilot of the Pink Panthers managed to get up and personal with the Gundam MPGT. Heat Hawk impacted against beam saber as the two mobile suits duel on the desert sand. All other forms of fire stopped; the two are too close together. Jet Core Boosters fly around like vultures; whoever dies first the Desert Zaku will die anyway. Suddenly, the Desert Zaku shoved the Gundam MPGT to the ground. Raising the Heat Hawk high, suddenly a gaping hole appears in the Desert Zaku's chest. The monoeye flashed and died out. Back on top of the Lackluster Fortune, the GM Sniper pats the Sniper Rifle and congratulates himself for a well-placed shot. Daren Sanders 8 VP gained, 1 days damage "Still no orders?" John Young, the first officer of the Hillock Crag, asked his CO. "No orders." Captain Snake Pliskin answered, taking a long drag off his cigar before tossing it into the ocean. "Any word on the Federation response?" Officer Young asked as finished his own cigarette. "No." Captain Pliskin answered, turning away from his first officer. Captain Pliskin was a man of few words, but of great skill. His battered brown officer trenchcoat flapped in the wind. He had lost an eye to the war, but his resolve and patience were the things of legend. Officer Young was more impulsive, and had yet to adjust to his Captain's lack of feedback. He spotted Bruce and Butch Harvey, the twin pilots of the Hillock's Dish and Don Escargot respectively, throwing stones into the sea. "Pilots, suit up! I want you two in the air now!" Officer Young often vented his frustrations at the young twin pilots. "Yes sir!" Bruce saulted as Butch simply flicked his officer the finger and walked away. "They're about to launch their ships." a transmission from the U-996's sole Luggun echoed in the silent submarine's halls. "Excellent. Inform the crew to assume battle stations. Deploy the mobile suits, prep the torpedo bays. Once the mobile suits are clear of the ship, advance upon the Hillock. Remember, we're running silent. That goes for the mobile suits too!" Laurent Auclair blasted out the orders with authority. At last, his submarine and his crew would be tested in naval combat. Just the thought gave him goosebumps. "Anything yet bro?" Butch yelled out to his brother as he made another pass over the Hillock. "Nothing yet. All the Zeeks are in Asia and Africa anyway." Bruce replied, fighting off sleep as he stared at the Dish's sensors over and over again. "Report!" Officer Young's voice came over the twin pilots' comms, as impatient as ever. "Nothing yet si-" Bruce's report was cut short as a pair of torpedoes rocked the Hillock. "Then what the hell do you call that!" Officer Young screamed as another volley rocked the Crag. "Report!" Officer Young screamed at the crew of the Crag as he scrambled to locate the attackers. "Sit down Young." Captain Pliskin ordered as he walked onto the bridge. "Direct all cannons east. Fire torpedoes at grid zone AS35. The enemy is at periscope depth. Tell the Harveys to head there and intercept." Captain Pliskin gave his orders with as much calm and poise as ever. With him at the helm, how could the Federation loose? "Hit confirmed. The Hillock is damaged. Hull is still intact." the Luggun reported every step of the battle to Laurent Auclair and the crew of the U-996. "Tell the Acquy to disengage and regroup with the Z'Goks at grid zone AS35. Where are the Dish and Don Escargot?" The battle had gone Auclair's way so far, he just needed to keep on top. "They're heading in your direction. Wait... scratch that. They're adjusting their course. They're heading in my direction!" the Luggun's transmission was fast and panicked. "Stay calm soldier. Pull out. We're coming to support you." Laurent's voice was firm and strong. "Sir, if we do that, we'll abandon the mobile suits to face the Hillock alone." a cremen spoke out of turn. "Then it's about time they earned their keep. I'm not about to abandon one of my men to their death." Laurent had every intention again returning with as many men as he set out with. "Take him down bro!" Bruce yelled as the Don Escargot engaged the Luggun. Bruce opened fire with his machinegun turrets, easily following the slower Luggun's attempts to evade. "Time to die!" screamed as he unloaded with his 50mm cannons, clipping off the Luggun's wings and sending it into a freefall. "Haha! Way to go br-" Bruce's cheer was interrupted with static as his Dish burst into flames. "Bro!" Butch yelled as he barely dodged an incoming missile. "You son of a bitch! I'll kill you!" Butch screamed as he tore off his helmet. "Confirmed kill. We've destroyed their Dish. The Don Escargot is still airborne. No hit. The Luggun is down, not destroyed." the crew rapidly updated Laurent on the entire battle. "Prepare another volley of surface-to-air missiles. Take evasive action!" Laurent barked as the excitement overtook him. His sub versus a sub killer. This would be fun. "Another confirmed hit sir. The enemy mobile suit is taking on water" Officer Young reported. The Hillock had caught the Acquy by surprise at AS35. "Continue firing. Once it's disabled, adjust course to intercept the Jukon attacking our Don Escargot." Captain Pliskin's eye had not blinked the entire battle. Even so, he could not see what was about to happen to his ship. As the next volley of torpedoes fired, they erupted the moment they left the ship's bays. A volley of rockets struck the Crag's hull, almost penetrating the hull. The Z'Goks had engaged. Rising to the surface, the two Z'Gok's took aim at the destroyer. "Open fire with all weapons on those suits. Do not let them fire!" Captain Pliskin yelled. A man of his experience knew what was coming. Sure enough, he had no sooner finished the order when two MPCs blazed across the ocean waters and struck the Crag, tearing straight through it like paper. "Open fire!" Captain Pliskin yelled as the flames on the bridge engulfed Officer Young. The Hillock began to sink, the damage too severe to stop the ship from taking on water. Before the waves consumed it, the Hillock did manage to release one more volley of fire. Unfortunately, it landed nowhere near the attacking Z'Goks, stray bullets and shrapnel causing cosmetic damage at best. "The Hillock is down. The Hillock is down!" a helmsman on the U-996 cheered in excitement. "Pay attention!" Laurent Auclair snapped at the helmsman. The Don Escargot had successfully dodged his sub's attacks, and its depth charges had started to weaken the Jukon's hull. "Rise to the surface. Cut engines." Laurent ordered. Every member of his crew went silent and stared at him. "Do it1" Laurent had no time for questions. He had one chance to take this fighter down. If he could lure it in for a kill-run, the Jukon may be able to hit the Escargot before its torpedoes could hit him. "Not my style, but I am saving that pilot." Laurent gripped his seat tightly. "This is it. I'm coming Bruce!" Butch yelled as he charged the Jukon II. His ship was destroyed. his brother dead. There was no retreat. "Sgt. Harvey, come in." The familiar voice on his comm had caught him off guard. "Captain?" Butch was shecked to hear his voice again. "Abort mission. You need to retreat and tell the Federation what happened here today. We can't let them take South America." Captain Pliskin's voice was dry and cracked. "But my brother..." the fury in Butch's heart was stronger than his sense of loyalty. "You'll have your chance soldier. But not today. Retreat to Jaburo. I'll provide you with cover. Tell the officers there what transpired here today. This is my last order. Take care of yourself, Butch." Captain Pliskin replied. Flames had consumed the entire Hillock's bridge, the majority of the ship itself now underwater. "Yes sir. God speed." Butch's heart sank. He pulled his Escargot back and out of range of the Jukon. "I'll see you again. I swear it, on my brother's soul." Butch stared back at the Jukon until it disappeared out of sight. "Sir, the Escargot is retreating!" the same helmsman cheered yet again. Laurent did not have to rebuke him again. "Good job men. Lets get our boys back." Laurent let out a sigh as he loosed his grip on his chair. They found the Luggun's pilot sitting atop his fighter's wreckage. They were not so lucky with their mobile suits. The Acquy and its pilot were claimed to the depths of the ocean. After the Z'Goks boarded the U-996, Laurent Auclair raised the Jukon to the surface to watch the Hillock sink. As Laurent exited his submarine and stood upon its surface, he noticed another officer staring back at him from atop the wreckage of the Hillock. His brown trenchcoat was seared and covered with blood. Laurent locked his gaze with the Hillock officer's one eye. Almost simultaneously, both pilots struck a salute at one another. Neither pilot moved or blinked, even as the EF officer sunk beneath the ocean waves. "Oh, damn it," Petty Officer Irene Ames muttered, looking uncomfortably at the console in front of her. "Ah... Lieutenant, I think we have a problem," she said rather unhappily, lowering the gain on her headset. "Hell... did they spot us?" 2nd Lieutenant Laurent Auclair said. He had so hoped that they'd be able to quietly sneak up on the Federal destroyer, but that likelihood was rapidly receding. "It looks like it... they've just changed their bearings and are picking up speed," she frowned. "So much for this being a cakewalk..." the U-996's executive officer, Erwin Benevides, remarked snidely. "What's the plan, skipper?" "We'll need to fool them on our bearing..." Laurent stroked his chin thoughtfully. "I'll rig up a decoy," Erwin said, reaching for an intercom handset. "Hang on, XO," Laurent stated, holding up a hand. "I have a better idea. Patch me through to the hangar."
"Hah, like that will help them," Captain Holbrook smirked. "Helm, eight point turn to starboard. Ahead half speed." "Ahead half speed, sir," Price, the helmsman, nodded as he adjusted the annunciator to the designated position; two rings of a bell marked the change in speed. The Hillock-class' turbine engines growled as the destroyer shifted to the right, picking up speed towards the target submarine. "Mr. Vorontsov, load up the ASROCs and be prepared to fire," Holbrook noted, adjusting the brim of his hat. "I imagine they'll be deploying mobile suits any time now." "Acknowledged, sir," the chief replied. "Captain! They've fired up their engines again!" the sonar operator exclaimed. "Too late now... what's their heading, Mr. Monahan?" the captain inquired. "They've done a full about-face and are retreating at maximum speed, sir," the operator returned. "And now they're fish food. Mr. Price, provide us with an intercept vector, ahead full. Mr. Vorontsov, engage as you see pertinent." "Yes, sir!" The U-996's two Zugocks cruised away from the submarine, firing their hydrojet engines at maximum output while simultaneously applying their hydrodynamic braking surfaces to mask their speed as something closer to the Jukon's. Laurent wasn't particularly excited at the idea of using his mobile suits as decoys, but he wasn't particularly interested in a head-on engagement with a Federation Navy destroyer. "Did they buy it, Irene?" Laurent asked, rubbing his palms together. If the Feds weren't taking the bait, he'd have to come up with a new plan and quick. "Ahhh...." she stalled, concentrating on the engine noises and trying her best to judge the situation. "I think so, sir. If they were coming after us they wouldn't be going this fast." "Good show, skipper," Erwin grinned, giving Laurent a harmless punch to the arm. "But won't they spot us when we open the tubes?" "Just wait, XO," Laurent remarked. "Alonso, up trim five degrees, ahead at a crawl." "Aye-aye," the helmsman nodded, applying the U-996's altitude control vanes. The caterpillars began slowly cycling, moving the Jukon towards the destroyer at a snail's pace. The engine noise of the Hillock, combined with what Laurent hoped was their sonar operator's focus on his Zugocks, would effectively mask their approach. "Daniel, have you still got that record that Peter brought on?" Laurent asked. "Yes sir. ...ah, why do you ask?" Daniel Ida, the communications officer, posited.
"I wonder what it is they hope to accomplish," Holbrook remarked, quirking an eyebrow. "Even if they try to outrun this ship, they won't be able to outrun a torpedo... Mr. Benson, have the Don Escargot ready to scramble. THAT will do the job just fine." "Understood, Captain," the loadmaster saluted. "Mr. Vorontsov, go ahead and give them a bit of pepper. I don't care if you can't get a confirmed signature, we have plenty of rockets," the captain ordered. "No sense in not having a bit of sport with our first catch of the season, wouldn't you say?" "Verily, sir," the ASW chief smiled menacingly. Several cells of the Crag's forward VLS slid open and four ASROCs exploded out from within, streaming gray smoke behind them as they flew into the air, then harshly turned to begin skimming the surface of the water at a very high speed. Several hundred yards out from their target the missiles abruptly died, and their forward sections - fully-contained torpedoes - dumped into the water. A sonar pulse later they acquired the cacophonous hydrojets ahead of them and began closing.
"Good. Daniel, have them begin evasive maneuvers, but don't make any indication that they're trying to come towards us," Laurent crossed his arms. "Also, go ahead and start playing that track at about 80% volume. Alonso?" "Sir?" "Kill the engines and start draining the main tanks," the Jukon's captain remarked. "Bring us up very slowly." "...skipper, why in God's green earth are we getting closer to the surface?" Erwin asked, a bit taken back by this new order. "I think you'll appreciate it, Erwin," Laurent grinned. "It's an idea I've been toying with. This is a perfect chance to test it." Erwin swallowed uncomfortably. "Well..." he began, "I'm not exactly too keen on something untested at the moment... but, it's your boat." "That it is. Daniel, I want you to lower the volume as we ascend. A tenth every fifty meters, got it?" Laurent asked. "Understood, sir..." he replied, beginning to slowly adjust the analogue knob on the console in front of him.
"What? Two signals? Explain!" Holbrook said, leaning forward in his chair attentively. "It wasn't two screws, it was two separate contacts... they way they just peeled away, it must be mobile suits!" Vorontsov said, adjusting the readouts at his monitor. "Mobile suits..." Holbrook said, flopping back into his chair. "Mobile suits... Mr. Monahan, are you sure that was a submarine we picked up earlier?" "I'm positive, sir," the sonar operator replied. "Nothing else sounds quite like that." Holbrook growled, making an ugly expression. "Then the thing must be holding silent around here somewhere..." he stated flatly. "Have the Don gain altitude before it starts bombing those idiots, I don't want some asshole with a beam weapon to shoot down our striking arm. Mr. Price?" "Yes, Captain?" the helmsman asked. "All stop, bring us down to nothing. Just because they're staying quiet doesn't mean we can't hear them," Holbrook ordered. Price acknowledged and the Crag coasted to a halt. "Mr. Monahan, find me that submarine." "Good as done, sir," the sonar operator nodded, slowly increasing the gain on his equipment. The bridge went silent as Monahan continued adjusting the pickups, slowly racking up the sensitivity on the equipment. A painful two minutes later he suddenly perked up in his chair. "...you've gotta be kidding me...!" "Mr. Monahan, what's going on here?" Holbrook asked, growing more irritated as the situation developed. "Sir, it's... it's music," he said. "....what?" Holbrook said incredulously. "....The Blue Danube, in fact," Monahan reported. "Bullshit," Holbrook grunted. "It's got to be jamming or something." "I'm positive, sir," came the response. "It's definitely coming from inside the submarine. They probably think they're too deep..." "Chief, the mobile suits?" the captain asked. "They're diving, it looks like..." Vorontsov replied. Holbrook tipped the brim of his cap down, grimacing. "For retrieval..." he said at last. "Monahan, figure out their depth. Vorontsov, fire as soon as we've got confirmation."
"Well, skipper, you've done a wonderful job getting us 300 or so meters away from a heavily armed antisubmarine warfare vessel," Erwin stated with blatant sarcasm. "Now what?" "Now we strap ourselves in," Laurent said. "Alonso, up trim 90 degrees." "S...sir? What?" the helmsman said, bewildered, craning his head over to make eye contact with the boat's commander. "That's correct. Make it nice and slow," Laurent replied, shooting a crooked grin at the bewildered XO. "You're mad..." Erwin said, securing himself to a duty station. "Have faith, Erwin," Laurent grinned. "Emma? Once we reach 90, fire tubes 2 through 5 right into that ship. Do not arm the torpedoes, understand?" "Sir, this is ridiculous," the fire control officer Emma Creuzot bluntly put it. "Just do it, okay?" the skipper said, giving her a bit of a glare. "Alright, fine..." she acquiesced, relaying the order to the torpedo rooms.
"Imbeciles, all of them," Holbrook chuckled. "Mr. Vorontsov, set depth for 800 meters and prepare to fire torpedoes." "Understood, Captain," he said, adjusting the control apparatus. "Shit!" Monahan exclaimed, drawing glances from Vorontsov and Holbrook. "What? What is it?!" the captain demanded. "It's tubes opening!!" the sonar operator exclaimed. "Where?!" Holbrook slammed his fist against the armrest of his chair. "They're right under us!!"
"Alonso, full speed astern!" Laurent ordered, making a swipe of his arm. He'd buckled himself to the periscope shaft, and it seemed to be working well enough... "Blow all tanks at once! Emma, arm the torpedoes in tubes one and six and fire as soon as we're clear by 100 meters!" "Aye-aye, skipper!"
"No response from the engine room, we're dead in the water!" "Fires are breaking out in the fuel bunkers!" "Shut up, all of you!" Holbrook screamed. "Where's the goddamn submarine!?" "They're under us, diving at full speed!" Monahan exclaimed. "They must've been dropping the volume on that music while they ascended!" "You morons...!" Holbrook gripped the edges of his armrests, white-knuckled. "Vorontsov, set the distance to as short as possible and fire the fucking torpedoes!" "Captain! Two more torpedoes just launched!" Monahan reported, mouth curling down at the edges. Holbrook went silent, tenting his fingers against his forehead. "Checkmate..." he said solemnly. The Jukon's torpedoes exploded directly under the keel of the Crag; its already-perforated hull simply disintegrated, splitting the destroyer into multiple parts. A massive blast went up through the superstructure, flinging the sensor mast through the air like a lawn dart. Inflatable lifeboats began bursting off the sides of the doomed vessel as sailors scrambled to get off before it went under.
"Confirmed," Irene nodded, setting her headset down on the console. "Enemy Hillock-class is sinking." Laurent grinned widely. "Well, I'll be," Erwin remarked. "You're a real piece of work, skipper." "Why thank you, XO," Laurent replied, beaming. "Alonso, keep diving until we make 400 meters, then recover the Zugocks. We'd better get out of here before the rescue party shows up. They'll be beefing up their patrols, I imagine." The helmsman nodded. "Uh oh..." Erwin said, pressing a headset to his ear. "Don't start celebrating just yet, Lieutenant. We're taking on water in the torpedo rooms... overpressurization from the blast must have broken some seals." "The sonar's damaged too, sir," Irene added, noticing a few glaring red indicators had sprung to life. "Mm," Laurent said, shuffling his jaw around. "100 meters wasn't far enough away... better make it 150 next time." "You mean we're going to try this madness again?" Erwin said, face drooping. "Of course! This was just a trial run, there's bound to be a few kinks," Laurent chuckled. "Now, what are we going to call it..." "How's your coffee, Mr. Benevides?" The two officers were enjoying themselves with what time they could. The U-996 had been on patrol in Federation waters for quite a while now, and had just picked up a load of supplies at a secret rebel outpost in southern Brazil. "South Africas best, Mr. Auclair. When do you think we'll be getting some orders from command?" Benevides smiled a little. The 7 man bridge crew of the Jukon II was a pleasant place, no matter how much Peter Weiss tried to sour the mood. "Maybe if we dive deep enough they won't be able to reach us. Get me a report from the sealance, I'd like to know what's going on in our ocean today Mr. Ida." Auclair looked at his communications officer. The crew of this particular Jukon was very lax on regulation, Auclair caring about his own men far more than military doctrine. However, they were still fighting the war, and they were fighting it well. Though he had been in relatively few engagements compared to some, Laurent seemed to have a knack for submarine combat. The three crewmen aboard the sealance, an impossibly quiet transport and scouting mini-sub, were just barely surfaced, surveying the waters ahead. All seemed quiet for the most part, but out of the blue a grey dot slowly appeared on the horizon. "That's... Hillock class bearing three clicks north by northeast! We'd best go back and tell mom Daniel." the Sealances captain, Edwin Base, slapped his driver on the shoulder. Behind them, the sonar operator in the three man sub added in. "Looks like there's something underneath it too. Is that... A Jukon?" "You know, I'm getting the hang of this ship. Zeon's designers really are pretty good, for spacenoids." Captain Thomas Brite smirked aboard the EFU-01. A captured Jukon, it had been transferred to Jaburo to test the brand new Aqua GM mobile suit. Two of the units were currently floating under the repainted Zeon ship doing maneuvers. Above them, the Crag was on guard duty, the heavily armed Hillock class destroyer a spectacular ship for anti submarine warfare. Above the Crag, a Don Escargot and a Dish were on patrol. The Aqua GM was a brand new weapon, and everyone was on alert to protect the two mobile suits as they tested their operations in ocean conditions. "This is Bluebird to Frogs Legs, I'm looking at a small blip on long range radar, three clicks south by southwest." The Dish's crew was very good, sighting the Sealance where most would just consider it to be a radar anomaly. "This is Frogs Legs, we'll go check it out. Tell the Crag we've got company." Captain Hernando Menendez aboard the Crag was expecting trouble, he'd been known to have a sixth sense when it came to that kind of thing. Lighting a cigarette, he paused for a few seconds before issuing orders to his crew. "All hands battle stations. Assume we have an enemy submarine inbound. Tell the oh one and have those GMs prepped for combat duty." "Captain, I'm reading a large aircraft coming straight for our position, sounds like a snail sir." Irene's hands were clasped tight around her headphones, here eyes shut. Auclair nodded, looking to Ida. "Is everything prepared?" Yes sir, we have confirmation from the sonar torpedo. One enemy Hillock, one enemy Jukon, two unidentified mobile suits. MSMs are in the water, the Sealance will be locked down in twenty seconds sir." "Captain, are you sure you can handle this?" Peter Weiss, black suit looming ominously over Auclair, was actually considering withdrawing. The Federation already had one Jukon, they didn't need two. Laurent ignored him. Despite the fact that he was a paper pusher at heart, Auclair for whatever reason had decided that today he would have his cake and eat it too. "Get the tech department on the line. How many FY rounds do we have?" "Twenty eight sir." Creuzot, the U-996's ballistics officer, was an excellent shot, one of the best in Zeons surface navy. Auclair nodded, a small black phone in hand. "Missile bay, I want you to transfer the warheads on six Freeze Yard torpedoes to ballistic missiles." Auclair was formulating a plan quickly. Fighting this many targets at once would take a lot of ingenuity. "Captain, that's a lot of work, it'll take us more than an hour to-" "Good, do it in ten minutes." Laurent hung up the phone. "Missile bays one and two load M warheads, dive to combat depth, speed to ninety percent. How long till the snail contacts?" Crewmen started grabbing on to railings as the submarine began to speed up. "Three minutes sir." "Very good Irene. Now we wait." Aboard the Don Escargot, crewmen were trying to acquire the 996's position, sonar operators getting data in laser pulses from bouey's floating on the surface. "I think I've got it captain. Priming ASW weaponry, lets see if we can shoot them down before the 01 arrives." "Roger that petty officer. Fire at will." Auclair kept waiting, counting in his head. The air was getting more and more intense by the second. Nobody could actually see the enemy, everyone in the Atlantic was operating with cloaks and daggers. "Missile bays one and two fire. Hard turn to port in four seconds. Get me a firing solution on the enemy Jukon." The crew of the 996 held on as the ship prepared to turn. Aboard the EFU-01, sonar operators were doing the same thing. "Torpedo bays one through four, fire." Brite ordered. Four torpedoes shot through the water, skimming fast towards the Zeon submarine. As they did, two rockets burst out of the surface under the Bluebird and the Frogslegs, detonating a thick cloud of minovski particles. "Captain! I've lost all reading from the boueys, we've lost contact." The sonar operator of the Frogslegs was visibly irritated. "Come around and try to re-acquire. That field will disperse before too long." "Torpedo tubes one to four, fire. Tube three prepare a noisemaker." Auclair looked at Creuzot, who was hard at work. "Erwin, I want you to take control of the MSM operation, I have too much to think about here." "Roger that captain. Daniel, I want the Z'Goks to move ahead, lets have the Acquy dive, I want it to move over here..." Benevides pointed to a position on Ida's map. The comm officer was ploting courses for the three MSMs, using laser transmission to guide them around to hopefully flank the enemy mobile suits. The two Z'Goks raced towards the combat zone, comparitively quiet compared to the large warships in the water. Seemingly ignoring them, torpedoes from the EFU-01 and U-996 flew towards each other under the waves, proximity detectors catching each other, the lot of them exploded between the two subs. Another two torpedoes shot out of the smoke and debris, the 01 trying to finish the job. However, as it did so a fifth torpedo launched straight from the U-996, delivering a powerful sonar signal. The two EF torpedoes sonar guidance systems locked onto the noisemaker, turning around and heading away from Auclairs Jukon. "I've got confirmation... The MS acquisition computer can't relate those shapes to anything. We've got a new model Federal MSM here, stay sharp." The lead Z'Goks pilot, simultaniously paying attention to sonar, IR and visual feeds, flanked out to the left, guided by Benevides directions. The two Aqua GMs, much faster than a Z'Gok underwater, split off to acquire their targets. Each launched a pair of small anti mobile suit missiles, but as they did several rounds shot out of the Z'Goks head missile launchers. The missiles exploded in a cloud of sticky purple goo, the Aqua GMs torpedoes slamming into this nebulous substance and refusing to detonate. "We're gonna have to get in close, our mobile suits aren't designed to fight at this range." The second Z'Gok pilot muttered. Hopefully this new Federation model would be deficient in hand to hand. "Forward VLS, fire on the enemy subs last known position. Rear VLS, standby and wait for the Bluebird to re-acquire." Menendez watched as the huge missile launch system in front of the Crags bridge turned into position. Dozens of depth charges shot out into the water, slowly sinking towards Laurents men. "Torpedo tubes one two and three, fire and prepare to arc above the enemy Jukon. Four through six, arc below. Fire!" Auclair's mind was racing, trying to think how to best outwit the enemy submarine. Hopefully they weren't quite used to everything a Jukon could do just yet. "Captain, we have six torpedoes inbound. Impact in twenty three seconds." The sonar operator of the 01 tried hard to track the six sounds above all the other chatter. "Launch countermeasures, dive on my mark." Two small canisters dropped out of the bottom of the Jukon, venting gas that emitted an insane amount of noise. Three of the 996's six rounds veered off course, crashing into the countermeasures and detonating. "Ten seconds sir. Nine, eight, seven..." "Dive! Dive now!" The EFU-01 suddenly lurched lower into the water, the remaining three torpedoes blasting over the top of the hull. Before they could turn around, the seeking warheads punched through the surface of the Atlantic, expert gunners from the Crag swivveling AA machineguns and shooting at them. One round managed to connect, a torpedo detonating in the air and setting off the other two rounds. "Good shooting men, we need to protect that ship. Rear VLS, prepare to fire." Menendez ordered, the captain of the Crag lighting a second cigarette. "Captain, tech crew reports they have four FY missiles ready for you sir." Creuzot was hard at work programming various torpedo trajectories on the fly. Auclair nodded, happy with how well his bridge crew was performing. "Alright, get them loaded in bays three through six. Missile bays eleven and twelve load some buckshot. I want noisemakers in torpedo tubes one and two, four through six ready to blast the hell out of that Hillock. Creuzot, plot the following coordinates." "Laurent, particle density is dropping back to safe levels, that snail will be on us again soon." Ames had to keep track of multiple sensors at once, the particle density level always in any sensor operators mind, in space or in the Atlantic. Aboard the Bluebird, Irenes prediction was quickly coming to fruition. "There she is... Captain, I've re-acquired. Feed the following coordinates to the Frogslegs. Zero zero four niner five, depth twenty three hundred." Signals were quickly bounced between the Dish and the Don Escargot, the Escargot carefully planning how to drop its payload. "Roger that bluebird. Depth charges in the water." A half a dozen rounds dropped out of the Don Escargots hold just as a further two dozen shot out of the Crag, all straight on target for the U-996. At the same time, the EFU-01 fired its torpedoes straight at Laurent, nearly two score warheads heading for Auclair and his men. "Captain I've got torpedoes, charges, they're throwing everything but the kitchen sink sir!" Ames jerked her headphones away from her ears. If she heard all of those explosions going off at once she'd have such a headache she'd be out of the fight for good. "You heard her, launch all of it. Prepare tubes three through six for the counter." The crew of the U-996 held on tight. Four missiles shot out of the top of the Jukon II, detonating in thick purple clouds and creating a barrier between the Jukon and the ocean surface. Depth charges from the Frogslegs and the Crag slammed right on target, sticking harmlessly to the expensive Zeonic compound. The two noisemakers from the Jukon II shot out, diverting the 01's torpedoes, four warheads shooting out behind them and veering towards the Federal warships. "Captain, I've got four torpedoes inbound heading right for us. Impact in... No wait, they're locked onto the Crag!" "Hard to starboard, see if unit two can deflect them. Ready all tubes for another attack." Brite was angry. They'd wasted too much time and still hadn't taken out this single Jukon. The four torpedoes from the 996 headed straight for the Crag, the 01 attempting to dodge out of the way. As the rounds zipped towards the destroyer, one of the GM Aqua's came up behind it, a beam pick in each hand. Latching onto the rear of one of the torpedoes, the Aqua GM pushed off of it and veered it into a second torpedo at the same time, the explosion causing all four rounds to detonate. The second GM was trying to acquire a target, but the test pilot wasn't quite as good as the men in the Z'Goks, backed up by Benevides's expert directions. One Z'Gok came around behind the Aqua, but even as it did four grenades dropped off the legs of the mobile suit. Exploding between them, the Zeon MSM had to move back, going to the surface even as the Aqua GM spun around and fired torpedoes. The Z'Gok dove into the air above the Atlantic, dodging the enemy warheads and spinning around in a circle. Pointing a three clawed arm at the Bluebird, it fired its MPC, narrowly missing the Dish aircraft. The Crags gunners swivveled to target the Z'Gok, but it was in the water again before they could fire. Benevides, one hand grabbed ahold of a railing tight and another on Daniel Ida's shoulder, called back at Auclair, his troops finally in position. "Laurent, surface the ship." "What?? That's suicide." Weiss looked at the 996's executive officer, trying to push the will of the SS onto the bridge crew as best he could. "I'm going to have to countermand that order by will of Gihren Zabi's executive mandate to-" "Surface the ship! Prepare to fire countermeasures. Get M warheads in nine and ten. Do we still have buckshot in eleven and twelve?" Laurent and Erwin trusted each other totally. The entirety of the 996's bridge crew ignored the SS officer on the bridge, who quickly realized he wouldn't be able to tell them what to do. "Captain, the enemy Jukon is surfacing. Should we cease fire?" The sonar operator of the EFU-01 looked a little perplexed. "Negative, launch everything we've got at them. They're bluffing." Brite grinned. They were finally going to shoot this troublesome rat down. "Captain, six contacts, more torpedoes. Impact in ten." Irene was starting to get a headache just from tracking so many things at once. "Right, blow everything, get us through the roof as fast as you can. Launch countermeasures, load all tubes and prepare to return fire." The 996 crew gripped their positions even tighter as the ship began to rise. Helmsman and co-pilot Alonso Kiernan and Adrian Neville pulled back hard on the helm, the U-996 moving quickly to the surface of the ocean as two gas filled canisters dropped below it. "Frogslegs, this is Bluebird, the enemy ship is surfacing, I repeat, the enemy ship is surfacing. I'm giving you coordinates now." The Dish and the Escargot, still working in tandem with each other, were in almost perfect positions to fire at the Jukon II as it broke through the waters surface. "Roger that, preparing a trajectory. Missiles away." The EFU-01's torpedoes veered off target below the Jukon even as the Don Escargots sailed right on target, slamming into the side of the U-996 as it surfaced. Gunners and missile operators on the Crag veered their turrets towards the Jukon, which was now a sitting duck surrounded by enemy targets. All eyes were on Laurent and his men, and it seemed that this time they were done for. "Fire everything we've got at them, lets sink those Zeeks once and for all." Menendez smirked, taking a long drag on his cigarette. Less than a second later, the bridge of the Crag exploded, Menendez and all of his officers dying instantly. On the other side of the ship where no one was looking, the U-996's Acquy fired its MPC through the bow of the ship, missiles recently expended. "Excellent work Erwin. Launch nine and ten and then tip back into the water, fire eleven and twelve in two seconds." Laurents crew cheered, the first winning shot had been delivered. Two M particle warheads launched out of the U-996, detonating almost immediately. Even as they did, the Jukon II rolled on its side like a whale, anti-MS multiple vector missiles launching out of the following two rounds at an angle. The missiles that Laurent conveniently referred to as buckshot opened up, dozens of smaller rounds spraying out of the main vehicles in a cloud of explosives. The Bluebird and the Frogslegs soared over the Jukon II at the same time, straight into the path of the incoming missiles. Aboard the bluebird, crewmen tried frantically to get out of the way. "Enemy missiles incoming, I'm plotting us a course through, hold one sec- SHIT, particle density through the roof, I've lost everything. Captain, we're blind!" The two Federal planes slammed into the Zeonic buckshot, exploding as the remainder of the rounds peppered the hull of the Crag, disabling the vessel. The Hillock class destroyer slowly started to sink, injured crewmen panicking as they tried to find lifeboats. "That's one down. Fire tubes one through four, prepare five and six and get me a damage report, I want to know how bad that snail hit us." Auclair smiled, easing up a bit. Now it was one on one, and hopefully the Don Escargots strike had been superficial. "Load gel rounds in tubes one and two and fire with the rest, we need to take them out." Brite yelled at his crew, starting to get a little frantic. Two captured Freeze Yard warheads shot out of the 01, erupting in a purple cloud as the other four warheads shot out in front. Auclair wasn't prepared to have Zeons own special weaponry used against it, and the 996's torpedoes stuck harmlessly into the substance. However, the crew of the 01 didn't seem to be coordinating quite as well as the Zeonic Jukon, their FY rounds blocking the escape route of one of the GM Aqua's. The GM pilot lurched his machine to a halt in front of the cloud, and as it did he was shot through the reactor by one of Auclair's Z'Goks. The second Z'Gok raced after the 01's torpedoes, trying desperately to get a lock. Firing its MPCs underwater, the pilot managed to nail one of the torpedoes, but the resulting explosion only caught an additional two. One round headed straight for the 996, and Laurent was running out of ways to respond. "One contact coming straight for us. Impact in ten..." Irene was sweating heavily, worried that this was the end. "Orders captain?" Kiernan at the helm was ready to try to dodge, but they all knew it wouldn't make much difference. "Dive, launch countermeasures and return fire. Start praying people." Auclair responded. The noise making canisters shot out of the 996 yet again, but this time the warhead wasn't quite close enough to them, continuing to veer straight for its target. Two torpedoes launched out from Laurents Jukon, heading straight for the 01. "I've got two more incoming, impact in ten. I don't think we can shake these ones." The 01s sonar operator was already praying, as if listening to Laurent above his own captain. "Prepare for impact. Emergency surface." Brite knew he'd been beaten. The three torpedoes slammed into their targets, two hitting the 01 and one hitting the 996 respectively. Laurent and his crew were thrown around the bridge of the 996, Laurent hitting his head hard on the railing he'd been holding on to. Blood started trickling down his face as he yelled out for a damage report. The 01 however fared much worse, the entire Jukon exploding in the water. Luckily for Auclair and his men, the enemy round had hit the mobile suit bay, exploding and destroying a part of the Jukon II that was mostly empty. Seeing its mothership explode, the remaining GM Aqua turned tail and fled, much faster than the Zeonic Z'Goks could catch. An hour later, Erwin Benevides and Laurent Auclair sat on the front deck of the U-996, each cradling a hot mug of columbian brew and watching the sunset. They'd had to surface the ship for repairs, but hopefully they'd be under way again in less than a day. Laurent, a bandage on his head, was contemplating his earlier decision to engage with his good friend. "So what made you give the order to attack, Laurent. We're honestly pretty lucky we didn't all die back there." Benevides trusted his captain, but this wasn't standard operating procedure for the French captain. Was he getting more into the spirit of the war, or was this merely a fluke? Laurent closed his eyes, thinking for a moment and taking a sip of his coffee. Turning to his executive officer, he smiled as he gave his answer. "Too much caffeine, old friend. Too much caffeine." Laurent Auclair - 9 VP gained, 2 days injury, U-996 damaged |