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The room was dark except for a single lightbulb. Water drops regularly in one corner of the room, excess from the rainstorm above. Other than the cot and a wooden chair, the room is spartan. A viewing port slided open on the metal door. The Zeon guard took one look at the sleeping form on the cot and closed the viewing port shut. The other guard was chewing on a piece of bread when the guard returned. Slinging his rifle around an empty chair, he grumbles," Nice of the SS to give us something else to worry about." "Just be glad they're not here anymore," grumbles his companion before drinking from his canteen," and even if the boy escapes, where can he go? We are on an island." "So long as we don't drown down here from this damn rain." Conditions are much worse several thousand feet up in the sky. It seemed as if, no matter where the crew of the Chicken Little went, it will always be bad weather. The previous day, it was the freezing cold of an Arctic snowstorm. Today, it is the humid slooshing of torrential rainstorms in the Mediterranean Sea. Raindrops splashed against the cabin windows like machinegun rounds. Still, the Earth Federal soliders went about their preparations. Soldiers double checked each others equipment. The crew of the Medea Revised prepared the parachute packs for the three mobile suits onboard. As the plane lurched every few moments, everyone had to grab a handle to regain their footing. Private Aurem Senaiha climbed up onto his GM Sniper with Arieta's help. Him and Arieta's mobile suit took the place of the GM Sniper and GM CCT that was here. Only one GM CCT is left but it will have to do. He turned around to get his helmet from her, but Arieta held it back. "You sure you are going to be fine?" she asked. The GM Sniper pilot shrugged. "Um, yeah. Didn't get too damaged the other day so I'll be fine?" She studied him for a moment then tossed the helmet at him. "Don't you worry about a thing!" she promised as Arieta fixed her hairband," I'll be with you." Senaiha's mind went into overdrive figuring out what to say. But he lost his chance when the door leading to the bridge to open. Everyone turned to look. Lieutenant Nigel Ferdinand stepped out into the open, dressed in combat fatigues and equipment for paratroopers. "Drop begins in five minutes, man your stations." Even through the downpour, the bright streaks of tracers from Malta's four antiaircraft guns can be seen from across the island. The blazing trails of surface-to-air missiles joined in on the search for the Federal aircraft above them. Behind the Chicken Little a lone Dish guides the Medea Revised safely around the antiair barrage. The operators are pushed to their limits keeping their own aircraft safe, the Medea Revised Safe, and keeping the three Tin Cod escorts safe as well. They are also responsible for the amphibious barrges below them. The transport boats buckle and shook as they pushed against rough seas towards Malta's shore. Onboard are a total of twelve Type 61 tanks over two vessels. Despite their best efforts however, the transports are already way behind schedule. Ferdinand grabbed the intercom as he listened to the chatter from the Chicken Little's bridge. The winds from the rainstorm and their high altitude is going to make paradropping extremely difficult at best. They are going to have to get closer to the ground. At that moment, the meager Malta air combat patrol of four Dopps found the Medea Revised. The antiair fire from the ground died down as the Zeon aircraft charged the large cargo plane. Antiair fire from the Chicken Little harassed them all the way in. But only two of the Dopps actually managed to release their missiles. Three Tin Cods guided by the Dish control aircraft tore the Dopps apart with in one furious vulcan gun attack. The Zeon missiles detonate close to the Chicken Little causing minor damage. On the ground, the sea barges are spotted and the island's two mobile suits went to meet that threat. The two Zaku II K's started to lob artillery shells at them but the violent winds and seas made the rounds go wild. The island's two torpedo stations launched some warheads but are lost in the raging waters. Zeon confiscated Type-61s moved to the beaches in a desperate attempt to form a defensive line. But even when the barges carrying the Type-61s were still fifteen minutes out, battle came directly to the Zeon defenders. The Chicken Revised did one long low pass over Malta as mobile suits then soldiers exit out the back of the Medea Revised. Senaiha and Arieta land with the GM CCT directly on top of the two Zaku II Ks. The GM Sniper landed first but Senaiha's footing slips in the wet mud. A Zaku II K turned around, raising its 120mm machinegun. But the GM Sniper pilot had his gun pointed first and despite the fall, shot first. The rounds ate away at the Zaku II K until the momentum of Senaiha's fall threw his weapon off mark. The Zeon artillery unit regained its posture but before it can retaliate, another stream of 100mm rounds through its chest. The Land Combat GM released the parachutes as it landed, the canvas tarp fluttering away into the distance. The GM CCT covered the two of them as Arieta helped Senaiha to his feet. Without a word, they returned to the business at hand. Their GM Machineguns dropped empty brass casings everywhere as the two artillery mobile suits are made into cheese graters. The tanks are of no significant issue as the inexperienced Zeon tank crews are killed in their stolen Type-61s. It wasn't so easy for Nigel Ferdinand and their marines. Crosswinds spread them all over the city. Finally in groups of twos and threes, they regrouped around Malta's Headquarters building. "Any sign of Philip?" shouted Ferdinand over the sound of small arms fire. "No idea sir! But there's a cellblock in that direction!" Ferdinand nodded. "Hold here while I go check it out." The soldiers around him blinked as the Lieutenant went on a beeline towards the cellblock. "COVER THE LIEUTENANT!" screamed a sergeant," YOU FOUR STICK WITH HIM!" Ferdinand dropped to the ground as bullets ate the dirt where he was a few seconds ago. Then four Federal marines grabbed him and yanked him into cover. They then ran until they are flat against the wall of the cellblock building. "DEMOLITION CHARGES!" someone shouted over Ferdinand's head. The shockwave from the ignited Composition B shook the cellblock to its foundation. The Federal Marines spent twenty minutes clearing the ground floor before they approached the stairway leading to the basement level. Something rolled across the ground and as a Federal marine shouted "GRENADE!". Ferdinand is thrown behind some office furniture as the explosions deafen his already strained ears. Small arms fire continued in the confines of the cellblock stairway. Finally, dead silence conquered the moment. Ferdinand is helped to his feet by another Federal Marine as they cautiously walked down the stairway to the basement level. Stepping over the two dead bodies of Zeon soldiers, Ferdinand gestured for his companions to stop. "Daddy!" came a voice from behind a metal door. The attack on Malta has ended. Nigel Ferdinand - 8 CP gained, Fatigued 2, Expert Crew specialization gained Aurem Senaiha - 7+1/2 VP gained, Repairing +2 At one point in time, Side 2 had been considered the crowning achievement in human technological advancement, the birthplace of the one millionth space borne human being. Massive colonies capable of supporting large populations of humans in the hostile vacuum of space centered at the fourth Lagrange point, one step closer to the greater cosmos. Now, parts of the colony cluster were scattered and broken amongst the stars, and some infamous parts across Australia. For all intents and purposes, the dream that was Side 2 was dead. But the memory was not forgotten. The Zeon Expeditionary Force, under the indirect command of Wu Jinyuan, made it's way toward the former battleground. The not insubstantial force consisting of a Gwazine and Tivvay moved calmly and without fear of any major surprises. Latest intel read that all major Federation fleets were well away from the area. However, the lack of any major fleet presence did not mean the lack of any Federals at all. Nearby, a long range recon patrol lead by Cato Galoni had come across the Zeon fleet while in transit. "Ah, space nahtzees... think they own space, do they?" the one-eyed Federation officer spat. With him, Rachel Arronax and Marc Simmons moved, the latter with a great degree of difficulty, loaded with no less than two shields, a bazooka, machine gun, and grenades. While the experimental Gundam unit would be able to easily handle the loadout, Simmons overworked GM was far from the monstrous White Devil in terms of power and performance. "Your sure you should take all that? Just because you were asked to carry it all doesn't mean you have to, you know." Rachel stated through a direct connection to Simmons GM. "Hey, it's no problem. The Gundam has the power, but the pilot doesn't have my skills." Simmons replied, not lacking for confidence. Nearby, two additional flights of Saberfish flanked the Federal mobile suits. While the pilots inside were not exactly happy to be out on a long range patrol, being paired up with several mobile suits did give them something to discuss. Needless to say, any of them would give up their left testicle for the chance to switch from the outclassed and outdated space fighter to a new mobile suit. "Okay, flanking maneuver. We'll catch the space nahtzees fleet between us and show them the power of our mobile suits. Saberfish flights on me," Galoni stated, the Saberfish following the GM Command Space Type to attack from above while the GM and Juggler variant attacked from below. "Sir, that patrol we picked up looks like they are moving to attack us. Two fighter wings and a single GM broke off to move up, the other two look like they'll be coming up below." the radarman on the bridge of the Monarch. In his seat, Wu Jinyuan calmly sipped his tea. While unable to drink in a true teacup, he still held his sealed drinking container like he would were it a normal cup. "Inform Ensign Banks, launch mobile suits to counter. I'll leave the team assignments to the ensign." Inside the hangar of the Lucifer's Fury, Richard Banks climbed into his Rick Dom, his SAF test pilot counterpart Caleb Degrau climbing into his Prototype Zaku. Outside, Chris Burnett was sealing the cockpit of the Braw Bro and preparing to release dock with the Tivvay. "Okay, we got three GMs and 12 fighters. Caleb and Burnett, you two take the GMs. The rest of you are with me. We'll take out the other group and come back to assist." the SAF officer ordered, moving his mobile suit to the launch catapult. One of the few ships in the Zeonic navy equipping such a device, Banks was glad to have it if for nothing more than the fuel it saved at launch. "Incoming Zakus! Scatter!" the appointed leader of the 12 Saberfish shouted as the full compliment of Zakus shot toward them, led by a Rick Dom, the four High Maneuverability Types leading the three F types. The Saberfish stood little chance, though the pilots did everything they could to try and survive, the mobile suits were too much of a match for them. One by one 90mm and 120mm machine gun fire riddled and destroyed the vulnerable Saberfish fighters. The few who managed to fire off their missiles did so with haste and the sheer swarm of ordinance managed to overwhelm one of the F types while a handful of anti ship missiles streaked across space toward the ships of the ZEF. Wu's mouth puckered a bit as he continued to sip the warm caffeinated beverage from the foil pouch. Watching with a semblance of interest, the officer watched as several outgoing shots leaped forward to neutralize the missile threat. Each and every incoming missile was successfully destroyed thanks to the expert telemetry data from the recon Zaku. Strangely enough though, his bridge crew was silent this entire time as Wu Jinyuan did not feel the need for dialogue at this particular point in time. Artfully dodging another salvo of missiles, the SAF commander weaved his Zimmad MS around a Saberfish who had just completed an unsuccessful gun run and quickly trained his MMP-80 and fired, watching with slight satisfaction as a fireball erupted from his target. He wasn't too intent on dilly dallying, however, but a larger explosion caught him off guard when he realized another friendly Zaku missing on his radar map. He immediately righted his Rick Dom and let loose a burst from his thrusters to dodge any potential incoming fire. It was then that he saw a string of shots rain down onto a fleeing Zaku followed by a pink lance that happened to strike through the target Zaku's backpack. A secondary explosion momentarily dazed its pilot, and that was all that was needed for Cato Goloni to fire a second shot that struck true. “Haha, fucking space nahtzees!” gloated the officer as he jerked back on his control sticks to dodge retaliatory fire from the other Zakus. “This is a real machine!” he continued, “And I'm going to use it to put a foot up each and every one of your cyclops asses!” A beam shot here, some 60mm fire there, and the eye patch wielding man continued to stave off his own destruction from his now numerically superior enemy. He probably could have used some more training in this new machine, but to Cato, this was what he was going to use to destroy the statue of the Zabis in New Berlin. Yes, he would personally be one of the first ones to step foot and dish out indiscriminate justice to liberate those fascists. He was going to liberate the shit out of them. Much further away, a smaller, more precise fight took place between the Federation and the Zeon. Rachel Arronax and Marc Simmons planned to take on the lone bulky looking Zaku together, but a series of attacks from an unknown point of origin forced the Federation's newtype to break off and investigate. This would leave Marc alone to face off against Zeonic's prototype suit, though the GM certainly was amply armed. “Those Zeeks and their playtoys,” Simmons thought to himself. He remembered this particular Zaku and its nasty surprise, but so far his shields had only been soaking up 90mm high velocity rounds from a MMP-80. The GM's pilot quickly turned about and let loose an impressive volley of bazooka and machine gun fire while performing a series of zig zag maneuvers to mitigate the effectiveness of counter fire. The HE rounds were easy to evade, but some of the GM's 90mm fire was successful in knocking Caleb's machine gun out of action, but that wasn't too much of a concern to him as evident when the prototype Gelgoog reached back to train the experimental beam rifle on the relatively sluggishly moving GM. A single beam shot spat from the muzzle of the weapon and scored a clean hole through one of Marc's shields and through one of his GM's lower limbs resulting in a separated left leg. Realizing that the beam rifle was now in action, the GM pilot detached the damaged shield and began to weave in and out of the occasional beam shot to close the distance with the Zaku, but Caleb Degrau would merely backpedal and maintain his distance using his superior speed and maneuverability over his laden opponent. Even Marc's heightened senses couldn't stave off the inevitable, and he would press his luck one too many times with the underpowered suit. One of the beam shots connected with his GM's left shoulder and obliterated its connections to the torso while simultaneously triggering a sympathetic detonation in its bazooka's magazine. Luckily, the explosion knocked the GM to its side as a rapid follow up shot filled the void left in the GM's wake. Hastily egressing, Marc announced, “Cato, Rachel, I'm disengaging. Meet you all back at the staging point.” “What the hell is this?!” thought the Juggler's pilot. Tentacles seemed to squirm around her and it was beginning looking like a terribly erotic Japanese film, only this time the appendages weren't slimy and fleshy and its target actually possessed a pair of balls. That and pink degenerating Minovsky particles were spewing out of the tips of the tentacles rather than, well, you know. The safety orange coloured spheroids were hard enough to manipulate on their own, but controlling her own mobile suit in addition to the bits was just a little too much for the emerging newtype. She fought for her very life dodging the numerous beam shots that were being spammed in her direction. It was her saving grace that the newtype controlling the metal monstrosities was just as inexperienced as she was. With mounting frustration, Chris Burnett began to accelerate his behemoth of a mobile weapon toward the GM Juggler. Initially slow to accelerate, the Braw Bro would eventually pick up an appreciable amount of speed, and combined with its mass it would make a formidable battering ram, and this was exactly what the Zeon newtype had in mind. The MPC tipped tentacles continued to capture Rachel's attention for the time being, and her efforts would pay off when a solid shot from one of her ball bits destroyed one of the twin tipped tentacles. A little celebration went on in her head, but a noxious collision warning would send a cold shiver down her spine. Rachel's hands forced the newtype suit to meet the high speed Braw Bro moments before it would crash into her. She would manage to discharge a single beam round and several machine gun and vulcan rounds at the Braw Bro, but it was too late. The next thing she knew, her screens were lit in red displaying the numerous system failures occuring throughout her mobile weapon. Both her bits were destroyed in her momentary lapse of control. The only thing she had to be grateful for was the one way express ticket out of the battlefield courtesy of the Zeon mobile armour. These space nahtzees weren't dying fast enough. Cato was beginning to feel a bit daunted by the numerous fascists still operational and willing to oppose him. The last of the Saberfish pilots actually killed himself, unintentionally cratering into a large piece of debris after being spooked by his Zaku pursuers. But the officer's mental fortitude remained resolute, and he would discard the spent beam gun and begin charging one of the Zeon MS with beam saber in hand and vulcans blazing. It just so happened that Richard Banks was ready to meet his remaining opponent and began charging his opponent with his MMP firing at the rapidly approaching GM Command. Its bullets impacted and quickly whittled away the shield and Cato would now discard his now useless shield, but it had bought him the time he needed for he was now in melee range. His powerful downward strike on the Rick Dom was parried by the latter's heat rod at the last moment. The remaining Zakus began to cautiously approach with heat hawks drawn to avoid a blue on blue incident, but it would still be several seconds before they would be on station to lend a hand to their commander. Immediately after the parry, the GM Command reached back and drew its second beam saber from its rack, but before it had a chance to ignite it a brilliant flash saturated the Federation suit's optics. Before Cato could even get a grip and escape an impending doom, a shaped charge warhead detonated in front of his hatch, subsequently spewing superheated molten metal straight into the embittered EF officer and through to the back side of the command type. The Rick Dom tossed the spent sturmfaust tube aside and went to retrieve its MMP-80 before slapping in a fresh magazine. His intention was to aid DeGrau and Burnett, but one of his surviving Zaku teammates would remind him of a very important fact. “Sir, I'm bingo fuel right now. I'm going to have to return.” The rest of the squad chimed in with similar situational reports. As Banks would later learn, his aid would not have been required. But hey, it was the thought that mattered, right? Wu Jinyuan: 8 VP Gained, Fatigued 1 Richard Banks: 8 VP Gained, Repairing 2 Caleb DeGrau: 7 VP Gained, Repairing 3 Chris Burnett: 7 VP Gained, Repairing 3 Injured 1 Cato Goloni: 6 VP Gained, Killed in Action Marc Simmons: 5 VP Gained, Repairing 5 Rachel Arronax: 5 VP Gained, Repairing 3 Injured 1 |