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"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Erwin Benevides asked, turning to face his commanding officer. Laurent Auclair sat quietly in the command chair of the Jukon-class U-996, his eyes glancing about the semi-darkened control room of the submarine. The Jukon rested on the surface of the Sea of Marmara, situated between the Mediterranean Sea and the Black Sea. To the north, several miles from U-996, sat the Zeon base Constantinople. Within the command center of the Jukon, nearly every monitor was focused, at various angles, on the deck of U-996, and the room was filled with Zeon sailors of every rank, each chatting amongst themselves, cash flowing back and forth. "It's a brilliant idea," Auclair replied, focusing on one particular monitor, revealing two, towering mobile suits, each standing still on the massively flat rear portion of the Jukon. He grinned. "Trust me, Benevides. Besides, it'll give the men something else to think about besides the coming days." "I suppose..." Benevides answered, his words trailing off into worry. One of the missile tube commanders, a young petty officer, approached Auclair. "Sir?" the petty officer asked. "Hm?" Auclair answered, looking questioningly at the youngster. "Want to place a bet?" "Of course," Auclair said, smiling. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" Eric Kyrion asked nervously. Sitting somewhat comfortably within his Efreet, his suit stood toweringly on the rear section of the Jukon U-996. Across from his Efreet, with only two dozen feet between them, stood Kalila Darwesh's Gouf. "I don't think it is," Darwesh replied, similarly sitting within the tight confines of her cockpit. "But we are under Warrant Officer Auclair's command. I suppose this is kosher." "If you say so," Kyrion said, preparing himself. Neither mobile suit had any of their weapons - their equipment, repair teams, and, God forbid, salvage teams, were located on a large barge nearly half-a-mile away. "Alright," Darwesh replied. "Want to get this rumble going?" "Sure," Darwesh said. As she answered, she pulled her Gouf's right fist back and rushed the few feet left between her Gouf and Kyrion's Efreet, slamming the fist into her opponent. "Oof!" Kyrion cursed as his Efreet vibrated violently from the strike. He pulled his Efreet's right hand back and struck at the Gouf's upper torso, knocking Darwesh back. In the command center of U-996, the three dozen crewmen and officers crammed in began cheering loudly, each man, a fist of money in his hand, cheering on their suit. On the monitors, they were able to watch as the Gouf and Efreet began to exchange a series of vicious blows with their fist, each slowly denting the other's outer armor. As the duel began to rage, the cheering intensified. Auclair allowed himself an even larger grin, and he himself began cheering on Darwesh's Gouf. "Beat his ass!" he yelled, clapping his hands in glee. Next to him, Benevides looked uncomfortably at the ceiling. Slight reverberations from the large, moving mobile suits above them could be felt. Darwesh took another punch from the Efreet. "Damnit," she cursed. Powering her Gouf forward, she viciously shoved the Efreet backwards. She charged after it. Closing in on the off-balanced mobile suit, she backhanded the Efreet with her left hand and punched with the right. "Take it," she yelled. "No way," Kyrion replied. He blocked another Darwesh punch with his right hand before striking the side of the Gouf's head with his left, knocking the head of the mobile suit askew. He returned the powerful shove, sending the Gouf stumbling back towards the rear of U-996. In Darwesh's wake, large indents into the top of the Jukon could be seen. Kyrion charged forward, fists swinging, landing two more quick blows on the Gouf, heavily denting the suit's exterior. Reacting perhaps as only a woman could do, Darwesh slammed the right knee of her Gouf into the Efreet's grion, sending a wave of harsh vibrations through Kyrion's suit. Knocked off balance, Darwesh responded with her own series of kicks and shoves, sending Kyrion tumbling backwards on his heels. "Do what?!" Benevides replied incredulously. "You heard what I said," Auclair said, a wolfish grin on his face. "Jesus," Benevides cursed under his breath. Around him, three dozen U-996 crewmen and officers shouted and cursed as the two mobile suits battled above them. He could hardly think with the noise. "Also, Benevides," Auclair asked. "Yessir?" his executive officer replied. "Patch through the audio in this room to our two combatants. They should appreciate those that cheer them on." "Yessir," Benevides replied. As he turned to comply with his superior's orders, he muttered under his breath. "This is getting out of control." "Got you now," Darwesh yelled, slamming another fist into Kyrion's Efreet. Beneath them, startling both pilots, water began to rise and the Jukon began to slowly disappear beneath the calm waters of the Sea of Marmara. "What the hell?" Darwesh asked, halting her assault on Kyrion and looking downwards. Kyrion did the same. At the same time, harsh and loud cheering suddenly filled the cockpits of both pilots. "Oh Christ," Kyrion replied, "Auclair is fucking submerging the submarine." "Christ indeed," Darwesh answered, "And now we have to hear the boys cheering for us." "Nothing we can do about it," Kyrion replied, turning his attention back to the Gouf. "Don't bend under the pressure," Darwesh said. "Bullshit I will," he answered. He slammed his Efreet into full speed, knocking into Darwesh. Darwesh tumbled backwards, flailing her arms attempting to block the blows Kyrion began to land. "WOOHOO!" cried half of the assembled crewmen and officers. As the Jukon began to submerge, adding an element of drama to the duel, the men in the command center of U-996 exploded into even more emotional cheering. Auclair himself cheered loudly, hoping Darwesh could pull a victory out. On the monitors in the central command room of the Jukon, the duel continued despite the rising water, both suits continuing to viciously pummel each other with their fists, and now their knees and legs. Back and forth, the fighting raged between Darwesh and Kyrion, with no clear victor. "Give up," Darwesh yelled, catching Kyrion's Efreet with an effective punch into the lower torso of the Efreet. Kyrion grunted as his suit shuttered under the hit. "You give up," he replied, viciously backhanding the Gouf with the spike guard of his left arm. Darwesh grunted in reply, sending another punch into the Efreet. Another series of blows were exchanged. Beneath them, the Jukon began rising, the water receding from their ankles and feet. Neither pilot cared much - they continued to fight, each shuddering under every hit they received. "Goddamnit," Kyrion finally said, sending another punch towards the Gouf, only to see it blocked expertly by Darwesh. "This has to end." "With me the victor," Darwesh replied confidently, sending another punch Kyrion's way. "Bullcrap, little girl," Kyrion said sarcastically. "Girl," Darwesh answered indignantly. "Girl?" Fury boiling inside her, she viciously punched the Efreet, sending Kyrion backwards. She followed it up with an impressive round house kick, knocking the Efree even further backwards. Before Kyrion could recover, Darwesh charged foward and shoved violently Kyrion's suit. The Efreet fell backwards, smashing into the conning tower of U-996, the sound of steel bending and twisting audible. Kyrion tried to maneuver his Efreet up to its feet, but Darwesh's final assault had wedged his mobile suit into the conning tower. "Damnit," he muttered. "It's over," Darwesh said, delight filling her. "Yeah, it is," Kyrion replied bitterly. "YES!" Auclair cheered, celebrating along with half of his assembled crew Darwesh's victory. "Darwesh!" he yelled, "Congratulations!" Around him, Kyrion's supporters bitterly handed over their bets to the the Darwesh supporters. "Champagne for all!" Auclair continued to cheer. "Um, sir," Benevides piped up. "Yes," Auclair said, turning to his executive officer. "We've sustained some damage from your little...duel," Benevides replied. "So? The men have had their fun. Let them enjoy it." "But sir!" "Stop being such a fuddy-duddy," Auclair said, "Enjoy the moment!" Kalila Darwesh: 10 VP, 3-1 Days Damage Eric Kyrion: 10 VP, 3-1 Days Damage Laurent Auclair: 8 VP, Light Damage Saharan sands rolled like and endless sea of tan and browns. Most men found this area to be bleak and hopeless, but Andrew Vinsko was not one of them. Observing from high above on the bridge of the Gaw assault carrier Griffin the passage of sand as they flew southward, he recalled the diverse assortment of people and creatures making their lives on the desolate and alien terrain. Perhaps it was his perspective as a spaceborne human, having spent a good deal of his early life in the colonies before being sent to live with his grandmother on Earth for his education and development. High above the massive carrier, six TIN Cod aircraft flew on patrol, their squadron leader one of the Federal air aces, Amy Bauer-Meister. A legend among the Federal forces for actions during the Zeon drop operations against Baikonour and the rich resources of the area connecting the European and Asian continents, she piloted a unique TIN Cod. Adorned with red and white stripes on the tail, as well as being more streamlined in shape, it was a craft that many Zeon pilots knew to respect. "Zeon carrier sighted, Scout 3. Looks like it's alone," Bauer-Meister spoke to the distant dish that had direct her squadron toward the craft. "Roger, Eagle 1. Monitor ship's progress, do not engage. I repeat, do not engage." a reply came over through heavy static. "Sorry Scout, could not read. Engaging Zeon forces now." the Federal ace replied, immediately cutting off the incoming signal and openning a squadron channel. "Alright boy, you know the deal. Stay with your wingman and don't get shot down." Immediately after, her TIN Cod banked and dove toward the massive aircraft. To Andrew's right, a radar observer turned in his seat and spoke. "Sir, we have six Federal contacts coming in. Looks like that Federal air patrol." The pilot's insticts in Vinsko screamed at him to get to his Zaku, but it wouldn't be of any help this high off the ground. "Launch our Dopps to intercept them, all AA operators to their posts." The eight nimble and oddly shaped Zeon craft launched quickly, the pilots having been on stand-by ever since launch earlier that morning. The eight fresh Zeon pilots charged head on toward the diving Federal veterans. The three wing-pair leads of the Desert Eagles all picked targets and fired, the three targetted Dopps never having a chance to even break from their ascent to dodge. The remaing five all turned and spread as the six Federal fighters screamed through and broke off in twos, coming back on their foes. Though faster and more manuverable, the Federals experience shined through as the inexperienced Zeon pilots fell one by one. Bauer-Meister notched three bogeys on her own, the rest spread amongst her wingmates. "Captain, that Gaw is getting close to firing range for it's AA," her wingman called. A few of them still had missiles, but there was no way they could take down a massive Gaw without heavy losses. "Alright, we've bloodied their noses, we're bugging out." Amy Bauer-Meister turned her craft back toward Kilimanjaro Base. Combat never really made her feel any better, no matter how many Zeeks she'd down, she'd never regain what she had lost to this war. "Sir, all Dopps are lost... Federal patrol is withdrawing. Several parachutes sighted, relaying coordinates to Alexandria" the radarman reported to Vinsko. Vinsko stood silently, the Dopp pilots may have lost the battle against the Federals, but their sacrifice had allowed the Griffin to enter Federal airspace without taking any damage. "Continue toward our target," Andrew replied, staring at the glowing exhaust of the retreating Federal flight. Andrew Vinkso: 6/2 VP, No Damage |