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You could see the aircraft that had gone ahead, nearly touching the horizon, the shimmering wonderland where the earth met the sky. And as far as it mattered to him, the Guncannon HDT was in its own wonderland, separated from Charles Gano. Oh well, he sighed, this GM will do just fine. I just wish there was some water around here... His Mobile Suit ambled alongside the behmoth Big Trays, peacefully observing the other GMs; their group was like a handful of marbles taken from a bag where no two glass spheres were identical. Every other moment, a new machine would break ahead of the pack, going to join its comrades fighting the terrestrial Zeon forces. Even this far back, the air was filled with a static writhing, chaotic tendrils of battle blindly grasping outwards for fresh blood. "Hey, hey, waterboy. Wanna go swimmin' later?" The sound of repressed laughter hid behind the radio's background static. Oh, what fun the desert is for an aquatic Mobile Suit. "Slater, we're clearing out the reserves. The advance party has no issues, but there's no use in holding anything back-- there's nothing they have to attack the ships with." "Roger, I'll go on ahead, then." Slater gripped the headset's microphone and bent it away from his face. The coarse foam covering was savage, as if even though humans were able to make grand walking machines in their own image, they were completely unable to improve the simplest of trinkets. The ground Gundam broke into a sprint-- the ground Gundam's version of it, at least. Its torso leaned slightly forward while its casual walking gait was quickened until it reached what was apparently maximum speed on the harsh terrain. The harsh terrain which blew sand into every pore of the Mobile Suit, every nook and every cranny. The ventilation system's efficiency on the Gundam [G] was less than desirable, and in the desert, the overheat warning bleared near-constantly unless you knew how to make your machine adapt. And oh, do I know, Kyle Slater thought to himself. His peaceful musings were brought to an immediate halt when he saw the first explosions. Well, Doctor Minovsky, don't steer me wrong! He raised his beam rifle. "Sergeant Tessa," the mechanic sounded chastising. "You really like to see how far you can go, don't you?" "Well, I certainly hope I know my limits." "You might know yours, but you gotta understand hers." He waved at Jay Tessa's dinged and dented Mobile Suit with a greasy wrench. Sergeant Tessa sighed. "I know, but really, I'm a part of the advance team, so cut me a break this time." The mechanic rubbed the bridge of his nose. After a few moments of massaging, he sighed and waved the sergeant on. Tessa happily climbed into his Mobile Suit and started it up. "I'll knock a few of them out for you out of appreciation, how about that?" He waved down to the defeated mechanic as the cockpit hatch lowered and sealed. The Gundam's microphone array couldn't pick up the quiet sobbing down below. "Alpha team, weapons primed. First contact, 20 seconds out. All flights, confirm." Jim Irwin's Tin Cod signaled all of the other aircraft that formed his flight wing. The other aircraft responded in turn nearly instantly. No problems. No problems at all, which meant all they had to worry about were the problems they could see. And it's hard to miss a Zeon aircraft. Really hard. Master Sergeant, cushy... Master Sergeant Irwin rolled his new rank around his mouth, but it didn't taste quite as good as a vintage with a good bouquet. "Sarge, 5 seconds to contact." Irwin's eyes drifted over the view, picking out his first targets. "And so it is." "Wolfe, you had better not be serious about taking out your Mobile Suit in that condition. I'm begging you. Hey, don't just shrug at me! Wait, stop climbing it! I haven't finished fixing it yet! SHE'S STILL HURT!" The cockpit closed as the mechanic continued to yell at him. But it was fine. He could still pull the trigger, couldn't he? Just point at click, that's all that he needed it to do. "Wolfe," a gruff voice came over the radio. It was speaking directly at him-- pretty powerfully, for someone who no more than a voice inside the cockpit, "air team just sortied. Follow their attack up, Corporal." Follow their attack up? This GM's got a lot more in it than that. "Yes, the Guntank is FINE. Stop asking. No, I wasn't planning on going ahead. I'm a TANK. No, I'm going to use the targeting data to shell them from back here. Yes, I know. Just let me do my job." Jack Murphy slammed the talkback switch down, deciding that any responses he'd have for the communication officers would best be kept confidential with his cockpit. He was cruising along in his Guntank, impatiently waiting for refined targeting data to be broadcast from the front lines. He recalled, as he fumed, one of the mechanics nearly having an aneurysm when he started the Guntank up, yelling something about it still being damaged. He had read the status reports. It was nothing worse than cosmetic damage, unless he intended to get into a fist fight with a Zaku, and neither the intention nor the Zaku were present. Beep beep. Oh, FINALLY. Took them long enough. He calibrated his targeting systems. "Hey, sir, hey, sir!" "What is it Ion..." Cray Vermillion rubbed his temples. "Do you know how to make smoked cheese?" "Did the Guntank stop? I think I heard a noise stop." Cray looked around the crew compartment, as if he could see the reverberations the Guntank caused in the hull ceasing. "Uhm... yes, sir!" Ion slowed the Type 61, the pace rapidly decreasing, but not stopping. The battle had begun then. The Guntank was ready to fire, which meant... "Ion, keep going, pick up the pace. We're almost in range." "Sir!" The Type 61 accelerated, throwing Vermillion back against his chair. The Dopps dropped like flies, their miniscule number absolutely nothing compared to the amount of Federation aircraft. Most of the Federal forces never even saw the Zeon fighters, and only the forward group ever saw them as anything more than black clouds. Master Sergeant Irwin's Tin Cod, even slightly less advanced than some of the other fights, entered the fray fighting, easily engaging the awkward Zeon airframes and reducing them to blistered metal after an introduction to his explosive friends. Really, the number of Dopps was almost embarrassing compared the size of the Federation's might, it would be so shameful if Lord Garma saw them in this condition. What would he think of them? I'm embarrassed just thinking about it, oh dear, I'm blushing. The Zeon ground forces weren't much less outnumbered by the Federation's Mobile Suits. In fact, they were actually slightly more terrified, and a Magella pilots found the urge to press the eject button exponentially harder to ignore as tracer rounds and beam shots soared through the air. "Gah, this thing really isn't equipped for land warfare, is it?" Charles Gano cursed at his useless torpedoes and peppered the ground ahead of him with bullets. From this distance, all he could do was spray and pray. Fortunately, the God of Hilarious Accidents smiled upon him, and a Magella Top flew right into his spray of bullets. Woo! That's a first! Slater was quite fond of his beam rifle, but he still relished the next chance he would get to use his beam saber. He settled for raining suppressing fire down on the Magellas from afar as he headed towards the fight. Another explosion, this time by his own hands, a Weasel blowing up as a Magella crashed into it, both ignited by a piercing pink beam. Another ground Gundam assailed the dwindling group of Zeon forces with his own beam rifle, striking four times; two Magellas were all that was destroyed, but their ejecting Magella Tops quickly found their own beam wound to match their bottoms. The desert GM fired its machine gun; that was about all it could do. It might as well have been dragging a wounded foot behind it in the sand, but Bigby settled for a patch of sand not too far and not too close from the Magellas to make his assault. How many Magellas were left now? It didn't matter. As long as he just pulled the trigger. Boom. Jack shelled the Magella's general area, he wasn't in any mood to do exact targeting. Besides, in the time it took him to aim for a specific tank, they'd all be blown up anyway. He settled for this, and leaned back in his cockpit, throwing a glance to the targeting monitor every once in a while to make sure his howitzers didn't realign themselves improperly. He laughed. "I bet they look like swiss cheese right about now. Sooner this is over, the sooner I can go and get some rest. The desert sucks for you too, huh?" He patted a monitor displaying an exhaust clog alert. "Lieutenant Ackart." "What do you want?" "Well, sir, the fighting's over. Your presence has been appreciated, but we can take it from here." "Are you saying I should go rest up from my injuries? "Basically, sir." "...I'm going to take a nap. Don't bother me unless it's important. Yeah, a nap." The ships had long since moved on, leaving a shelled hell behind, and on the side of the smoking hull of a weasel, spray painted in red, a single line was left in monument to the battle: "I FUCKIN' LOVE THE DESERT." Cray Vermillion: 6/2 VP gained, no additional damage Jack Murphy: 7/2 VP gained, no additional damage Bigby Wolfe: 7/2 VP gained, no additional damage Jim Irwin: 6/2 VP gained, Repairing +1 Jay Tessa: 7/2 VP gained, Repairing +1 Jarvis Ackart: 1 VP gained, No damage Charles Gano: 8 VP gained, Repairing 1 Kyle Slater: 8 VP gained, Repairing 2 "All Mobile Suits, launch!" The hangar collectively stumbled as Mobile Suits scrambled to the Gwazine's open hangar door. The Gwazine ejected hunks of metal and ceramic from its gullet, and the GMs were just in time to see the Narwhal crumple and explode. White bits dashed aroud, firing into the wrecked carcass. "If only they had launched me faster, I could've shot down those shiroi akuma! That means white devils in Japanese, and I'm using Japanese because it's actually used quite a bit in the production of M-" "Shaddup, Simmons. No one cares. Orders, Delphinus? Roger. Everyone get back in the damn ship." Otaktai shed a single tear as he followed Foley and Simmons back into the Delphinus. Issa Kobayashi was not far behind, but the sudden launch and immediate retreat threw him off, and he lingered for a moment, looking for a stray Zaku. But there was nary a stone in sight. "Well done, Cuyler. You should return to the ship now. Our mission here is over." Sun Wu turned to Captain Douglas. "It seems we've sunk another one of their dreams." Florian drifted back to the ship, completely silent. One hand grasped his face, the immense pain he felt seemed like it was going to make his eyes burst and his teeth pull themselves out of their sockets. But it was fine. It was just another headache. "Oh, right," Sun Wu dashed back onto the bridge and pressed a button, activating the radio. "Myberg, I almost forgot about you. Please return now as well." Emil sighed and fired his rocket thrusters. "At least I didn't have to get close to anyone. Or do any fighting. Well, maybe I can go sleep on that nice lady's lap again." Florian Cuyler: 3 VP gained, Injured 2 Sun Wu: 1 VP gained, no damage Patrick Foley: 1 VP gained, no damage Marc Simmons: 1 VP gained, no damage Issa Kobayashi: 1 VP gained, no damage Otaktai Lone Wolf: 1+1 VP gained, no damage Nightime in Tunisia. The country is already well known in history as the turning point of many wars. The mighty city of Carthage once stood there until Roman Legions took it. Field Marshal Erwin Rommel lead his famous Afrikakorps through these sands against the Allied forces of Word War II. Now another name will be added to the annals of history for this region. Lieutenant Nigel Ferdinand gazed out from the bridge of his Big Tray-class Hood. The desert at night is an oddly soothing place. Still, mind dwells on his previous day's attack on the Jukon II-class U-77 Lorelay. It had proven unsuccessful due to the lack of ASW aircraft. Now his damaged craft is back on solid ground. "Sir," spoke one of his bridge officers," there is a river nearby. Permission to stop to resupply?" The Dutch prince gave it some thought. "Permission granted, but I want the Tin Cods and Dish aircraft to hold a combat air patrol over us. There's no telling how far Zeonic forces are from us." The answer to that of course is much closer than Nigel Ferdinand would like. The newly requisitioned Gaw-class Bayonetta airdropped three objects before changing course. A swarm of Dopps followed the Gaw as it continued into the night. Obersturmfuhrer Xaviar Brennan's Z'Gok swiveled its monoeye as his two Acguys caught up with him. Somewhere closeby is a wounded Federal land battleship for the taking. "Let's move out," ordered Brennan. Meanwhile, smaller parachutes and Wappa descended from back of the Gaw. Hans Bond landed and promptly dust himself off. Quickly the black armored shilouettes of Hauptscharfuhrer Ritter Novosad's elite Panzergrenadiers surrounded the Zeon operative. "I'll say dear boy, that it's time to do his majesty's work," offered Hans Bond. "Indeed," was all Ritter Novosad was willing to offer as they ran off into the night. In the sky above them, the fighting has already begun. Tin Cods and Dopps clashed in an epic explosion of pyrotechnics and tracers. The Luggun and Dish aircrafts struggled to out juggle the other for control of the air battle. Like a big purple backdrop, the Bayonetta plows its way through the sky. Bombs dropped from its payload, cratering the area around the Hood. Form the rear of the aircraft, Specialist Persephone Dawn and Oberscharfuhrer descended onto the battlefield with their weapons drawn. The pair of Newtype pilots blasted at Jet Coreboosters and Depp Rogs before hitting the ground. Adeline's damaged Gouf nearly slips but Dawn's Zaku II Manipulator Type caught her. At their feet, Magella attack tanks grind into the dirt as they raced towards the Big Tray. But then the Hood's heavy artillery sounded and the ground around the Zeon forces was thrown into the air, pausing the advance. A GMPGT and a GM CCT appeared, laying down suppressive fire to keep the Zeon forces back. The lone Gunship Heli is struck by the MS sized rounds smashed it to bits. Back on the bridge of the Hood, Nigel Ferdinand was yelling at his bridge crew. "Sir! We can't get the engines started up fast enough! There's a problem with the engine room!" Ferdinand clutched his fist but looked up as his sensor operator started yelling. "Sir! Zeon forces approaching from the river bed! The Fly Mantas and Depp Roggs are trying to hold them off but our perimeter's being overrun sir!" At that moment, the mentioned Fanfan just found itself crushed to bits by Brennan's Z'Gok as the Acguys fired their weapons at the heavy bombers. The lights of the Big Tray are before them and on the other side, Persephone Dawn and Rose Adeline share the same view. Suddenly a different rumble rocks the Big Tray. "What the hell was that?!" demanded Ferdinand. As his bridge crew raced to figure out what is going on now, Melissa ran onto the bridge and into Nigel's arms. Before he can say anything, the captain of the Marines onboard enterred with his rifle. "Sir! Zeon infantry had breached the ship! Panzergrenadiers are with them. We must get you to safety." The worst has come to pass for Nigel Ferdinand. Accepting reality, he agreed with the Marine. "Bring our 'guest' too. We may need her in the following days. Get as much of the crew out as possible!" Not much of the crew was going to get out alive as Ritter Novosad and his elite armored troopers tore through the ship like an unstoppable black plague. They found the bridge empty, with equipment sparking. Novosad let Hans Bond take a look around as he thumbed his microphone. "Novosad to Team 2, what is your status?" "Engineering secured. Preparing to sweep the ship." Outside, the Federal Marines held back a desperate defense as the bridge crew of the Hood, the Ferdinand couple, and their guest are lead into the waiting arms of the GMPGT and GM CCT. Together they escaped into the darkness of Tunisia as the Zeon attackers converge on the disabled Big Tray. Persephone Dawn - 7 VP gained, Repairing 2 Rose Adeline - 6/2 VP gained, Repairing +2 Ritter Novosad - 6 CP gained, Injured 2 Xaviar Brennan - 7 VP gained, Repairing 2 Nigel Ferdinand - 5/2 VP 3/2 CP gained, Injured 4 Aleena Andrielle - 1 VP gained, Repairing +2 Injured +1 |