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Water crashed around the recently recaptured Federal fortification of Malta. The European base has seen its share of Zeon activity. But the previous day's arrival of the Fighting Mongoose destroyed any fantasy that Malta will easily remain in Earth Federal hands. The base is a shadow if its former glory. But it still has naval warships and a decent air force of Tin Cods to support it. But that's the good news. The fortification itself have minimal defenses, a squadron of mobile suits, and only a Guntank MPT to serve as heavy artillery. Federal officers clenched their teeth as they look at the massive artillery pieces of the Dobdays and mobile artillery platforms. The sieging units are also clustered together, making it difficult for the meager Federal forces to single them out. More than one Federal trooper muttered about how the Duchy of Zeon can probably "sink" the base into the sea. Sailors onboard the Himalay-class Dhaulagiri II and the Hillock class Steppe II went about their routine duties, trying to ignore the Zeon might arrayed against them. The flight crew of the Medea-class Mouton II wondered what the hell THEY are supposed to do in this fight. The rumors running around the Federal ranks are not far off. Stockpiles of artillery rounds are held in giant numbers the in armored magazines onboard the Dobdays. The scouting reports are accurate and the weather is fine. But such favor is not appealing to everyone. Mixed among the ranks of Dobdays and Gallops are the combat mobile suits of the Fighting Mongoose and the recently arrived G-Force. captain Ando Shoji stood on the shoulder of his Shin Zaku Two, posture erect as anyone who fought for courage and justice would be. "Let the fires of Zeon purge the Earth Federation from this island forever!" he proclaimed. Close by is Staff Sergeant Duncan Keystone. His Gouf is supervising the positioning of his experienced Xamel artillery mobile suit. "You know that guy is starting to sound more and more like a preacher everyday," he commented. "Don't tempt him please," asked Lieutenant Marko Desner from his Dowadge. He and his veteran Dom pilot are holding vigil over the Zeon land battleships. Next to him, Sergeant Noelle Everett sat in her own Dom as her personal Dopp team fly overhead. Behind her is the large mobile armor named Adzam, pilotted by Private David Anderson. No one knows why Federal artillery hadn't try taking a shot at so large of a target yet. "So long as everything goes to plan, we should be alright," Sergeant Ferusha Glavadeen remarked from her Zaku II F.. On the bridge of the Dobday-class Eclair, the commander is talking with his counterpart on the Gallop-class Decimator. "So whose plan do we follow?" he asked. "Both call for heavy artillery, while only one called for take and hold." "Do we have the assets for that?" "Only if we are very lucky. I'll leave it to the Marines company commander to make that decision." "Very well, we should be started here momentarily." "As will we." The thunderclap of heavy artillery can be heard as far as ten kilometers out to sea. To the Zeon soldier, it was the mark of the beginning. To the Federal soldier, it was the signal of the end. The Dobdays lobbed shells that deeply penetrated the Federal defenses of Malta. The first to go is the Radar/Communications Tower. Soon, every superstructure on the base is hit, rendering the base's infrastructure useless. Type 61s taking cover in hulldown positions survived the rounds that landed near. But those statistically few shells that actually landed on them obliterated the armored vehicles. Aircraft still on the airfield faired erupted into fireballs, their airframes not built to withstand punishment of this magnitude. The port of Malta was a disaster zone. The ships there found themselves unable to maneuver in the small confines and within seconds felt the heavy shells puncture their decks. The Steppe II snapped in half while the Dhaulagiri II got more than two thirds of its aircraft up before its catapaults are torn asunder. A few Tin Cods and Jet Core Boosters flew under the artillery bombardment in an attempt to eliminate the sieging cannons. But the Zeon attackers brought their own aircraft and anti-air as well. Quickly, the Federal air counterattack grind to a halt. The Federal force's biggest act of defiance came from its lone Guntank MPT. The crew, more through luck than skill, drove the artillery mobile suit safely through the steel rain. It halted briefly before its twin 120mm cannon boomed at the Zeon forces. But the sieging units were waiting for this. Master Sergeant Alec Irusk pivoted his Xamel as his Luggun relayed the Guntank's coordinates. Next to him, Private Bryce Hollerfelt dug the Hildofr's stabilizers into the ground as he angled his main cannon. Together along with other Xamels and Zaku II Ks, the counterbattery fire of the warmonger and the former espionage agent tore the Guntank MPT apart. When no other Federal artillery fire came their way, they adjusted their trajectories to the rest of the base. Rounding into Malta's port, Zeon infantry huddled in assault boats, ready to dash towards the Himalaya-class Dhaulagiri II to claim it for Zeon. Suddenly one of the soldiers pointed at the sky. "DAMN!" cried their commander," all boats break off NOW!" "I can't believe we are doing this again so soon!" "Don't worry, you'll used to it by now Rhett," assured Vina Sealander on the bridge of the Zanzibar-class Shooting Star. "Just keep Takeshi covered." Behind Master Sergeant Rhett Paruta's Zaku II K and Dodai YS is the monstrous Apsalus II. Onboard, Sturmmann Yuji Takeshi steered his controls as the rough orbital drop subsides a bit. "Just a little bit more," he muttered. Suddenly, the last of the Federal defenders flew up at the Zanzibar and Mobile Armor. The guns of the Shooting Star spat vicious fire as it moved itself to block the defenders from harming the Apsalus II. Paruta's Zaku II K drove off enough of the Federal aircraft that Takeshi's mobile armor reached the firing point unmolested. Like the birth of a new sun, the anti-fortress MPC of the Apsalus II buried the base in blinding white light. The resulting pressure wave rattled the armor plating of the sieging Zeon forces. Massive waves disturbed the sea as the explosive force tore the crippled Himalaya into shrapnel. The Medea B trapped on the damaged airfield vaporized like an afterthought. Only hours later, after the debris and smoke cleared, did the Zeon forces get a glimpse of their handiwork. A single huge crater had been formed where the base was, and the island of Malta is now a donut. Or rather, to the amusement of a few, a giant fishbowl. Conversation for the rest of the day involved the prospect of taking the nimble Dom and performing skating tricks on the edge of the "Malta Fisbowl." Aleck Irusk - 3 VP Gained, Repairing 1 Ando Shoji - 1 VP Gained, No Damage Bryce Hollerfelt - 3 VP Gained, Repairing 1 David Anderson - 1 VP Gained, No Damage Duncan Keystone - 1 VP Gained, No Damage Marko Dresner - 1 VP Gained, No Damage Noelle Everett - 1 VP Gained, No Damage Rhett Paruta - 6 VP Gained, Repairing 2 Ferusha Glavadeen - 1 VP Gained, No Damage Yuji Takeshi - 7 VP Gained, Repairing 2 Confirm system release. _ System release confirmed. Gamma through phi circuits engaged. Neuroanalytical receiver conduits, all green. Connection Alpha confirmed. Omega communications processing... _ Omega confirmed. Bit status: ready. All subroutines active, SCHNEE_WEISS unlocking bit docks. The subdisplay's black background slowly became eye-achingly bright as cells labeled "E0001" through "E0098", and all the way to "E0983" became green. It rapidly flickered through several different lists of different connection routes, but the screens always began to pass by too quickly after that one number, "E0983", for Florian to count. His mouth was dry, but he didn't really feel it. He swallowed cotton. He reached out with the bits-- they were like tendrils, or maybe all they could be compared to were bits. That's what the felt like; they felt like what they were, but they felt like they were connected by some invisible energy. Energy that was like silk threads and an shivering ocean. They reached out to take his hand. "I told you! The Simmons is always ready! Stop trying to keep me from going out! Out of my way, old-timers, you can't stop the Simmons!" Petty Officer Simmons catapaulted up to his cockpit and struck a mechanic, who was finishing up touches on the GM's paintwork after the pilot's clumsy crash. As it turned out, he was repainting the "M.SIMMONS" printed in flat white, an action regarded by mechanics to say that the machine was ready to launch without blowing up halfway out the ship. The people who were trying to "stop him" were in fact trying to let him know where the machine would be having difficulties. Otaktai Lone Wolf watched from a railing attached to a catwalk in the hangar, drink in hand, taking occasional sips. He shook his head and sighed. On the other side of the Hangar, Seaman Kobayashi overlooked the Prototype Gundam's preparations, and he took exceptional care to make sure the beam rifle's E-Cap wasn't over-stressed from the last sortie's quick depletion of mega particles. It was almost like a battery; use it up too much of it too quickly, and it'll only decrease the life of the energy source exponentially. Fortunately, there seemed to be no major stress, and Kobayashi lowered his helmet's visor and kicked off the floor to the drably colored prototype's cockpit hatch. "ALL HANDS: DEPRESSURIZATION IN TWENTY SECONDS. WE ARE NOW AT FULL BATTLE ALERT." The intercom blared over the mechanical whirring and murmur of voices. All the pilots looked at the launch indicator hanging mounted on the hangar wall. Five red lights. As soon as the one on the far left turned green, the hangar was completely depressurized. As soon as all of them were green, launch protocol began. The first light turned green. There were shots everywhere. They were so close to the bits. But there was something else... there was some kind of pressure that felt like it was trying to touch them, like it was trying to get inside Florian's mind. The pressure was LOUD. "Hey, I see those things!" Marc Simmon's eyes reflected the monitor's glow, but there was something in them that wasn't on the monitor. "I'm going to... I'm going to blow them up, yeah! Heh, it's a shame whoever they belong to won't be able to see my face." He pushed the accelerator all the way forward, just short of the emergency retroburner detent, a mistake he would never make again. The Val Varo closed in on two GMs. Their vulcan fire bounced off the red Mobile Armor's hull and they were too far away to use their beam spray guns. Felix Mendalshon grunted a sound of curious amusement before his mega particle cannon fired between the closely positioned GMs, leaving their sides melted away the moment before they exploded. "Tch!" Issa bit his lip as the two Zakus closed in on him. The Gundam's arm swung around and two pink lights exploded from the beam rifle's barrel, piercing the Zakus in the torsos. They exploded, but through the glow and rapidly dissipating smog, a shape was taking form. Suddenly, a huge claw pierced through the smog and grasped at the Gundam, tearing away its shield. Issa growled and drew a beam saber from his backpack with his free hand and began firing on the claw. The claw pulled backwards, and the other one struck out, but it pulled away with a shortened, molten tip, the beam saber's mark. Issa discarded the spent beam rifle and drew the other beam saber in his newly freed hand. His main rockets glowed. Felix quickly checked the mega particle cannon's status-- too soon, it wasn't charged yet! The Gundam was suddenly in front of him, and then gone. The Gundam crashed into the Mobile Armor's top, and sparks flew away as he scraped along, kneeling on the red surface. He dragged his beam sabers with him, their blades dug deep into the armored hide of the Val Varo. The poorly colored Mobile Suit leapt off the Val Varo, and used its vulcans to decimate yet another Zaku with a glance. Issa scanned for his shield and rifle. "Why are these so hard to hit! Hey, you things! Stop shooting at the Delphinus, that's MY ship!" Simmons shouted at the Schnee Weiss's bits. He sprayed machine gun rounds at the dancing fairies, finally knicking one in the rear. It shuddered momentarily, then exploded, releasing the remainder of its stored mega particles, like a ghost leaving a corpse. Florian gasped, sweat poured down his face, and he nearly doubled over as he felt something snap back into his head. And like it had dragged broken glass and rusty nails, his head screamed in throbbing agony. His vision blurred for a moment, but he pulled himself back up into the seat by his controls. He saw through the pain. "Bloody Hell! They're really pushing for that Gwazine, eh?" Lieutenant Patrick Foley raised an eyebrow at the Rick Dom coasting towards him, its overlarge weapon aimed right for his GM Command's cockpit. At least, it might as well be-- one didn't do well to get hit by that... thing. He dodged aside and slashed its passing torso with a glowing beam saber, and the Dom's Minovsky-Ionesco ultracompact fusion reactor was kind enough to detonate after he had gotten away. Petty Officer Caleb DeGrau jerked the control sticks around; there was a GM burning along within his range. "I hope he didn't notice me, strange looking GMs are bad news for any Zeon pilot." He boosted backwards, hoping to settle into an unconscious blind spot of the GM's pilot. And then, an opening-- the Dom pilot surely just lost his life, but Caleb would make sure it wasn't without reason. The Prototype Gelgoog rushed after the GM, beam saber still active in its left hand, behind the shield. If he could just-- the green prototype's grenade slammed into the GM's rear, shaking the shield/beam saber arm, and apparently doing enough damage to loosen the arm's grip on the beam saber, which drifted away. The GM whipped around, machine gun already finding a bead on the strafing prototype, and fired a stream of DU bullets. Rounds struck the glorified Zaku's exterior, a few of the many thrusters damaged to uselessness by the stream. But it looked like the GM pilot was out of ammo, after all, he wouldn't toss away a usable weapon. The GM's vulcans flew around the approaching prototype, who had its heat saber drawn. Lieutenant Foley smiled. The heat saber dug into the GM's upper torso, ripping a canyon in the armor and various system, but the beam gun in the GM Command's hand blasted a hole through the Prototype Gelgoog's waist. They pulled away from each other, Lieutenant Foley's machine had hit its obvious limit, and the Zeon Mobile Suit was in no condition to fight any more. They shared a moment of silence, gazing at each other's military emblems. And then it was over, each MS heading back to their own ship. "Ahahahahahahahaa," Marc laughed until he was out of breath, "I can see them! I think! More bullets, more! Marc Simmons never fails! Never!" The bits continued seeking out safe firing paths to the Delphinus. But that damn... loud pressure kept chasing them. It was like it was chasing its own tail, but still, once in a while it caught a whiff of something good, and chased after it. Otaktai's strange GM dodged around the Rick Dom... or, or at least, tried to. The Dom's heat saber dragged across the surface, tearing off entire panels of armor. The stripped GM backed away, only to catch a face full of the Dom's scattering beam gun. Otaktai's eyes watered, a single tear rolling down his cheek. It wasn't the brightness that affected you, it was the sudden whiteness overwhelming your eyes and your screaming optic nerves. Richard grimmaced as he dodged a whack from the GM's gun. "Don't bother-- if you just relax, it'll be over quicker." He sighed, the GM's vicious melee attacks were useless against the Dom's armor. Suddenly-- "What's that?!" Richard tried backing away as Otaktai drew a hardpoint mounted gun and fired both weapons at the dom. The main cameras were disabled and Banks had no choice but to return to the Fury. Otaktai took the moment to look over his systems; he was good to go for another round-- No. Grandfather taught me that it's better not to chance it. "Really? I got another one?! I mean, uh," Marc stopped for a moment, but then deepened his voice before continuing. "I got another one." One of Florian's hands flew up to his face as the other tightened a vicegrip on the control stick. It hurt. His head hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. The pressure was making it hurt. He felt it. He felt the pressure. He had to get away. It was disgusting. He drew ragged breaths as he pulled on the bits' strands, and he only began moving back to the Lucifer's Fury after they had docked. At least, the ones that had made it backc. Two would have to be replaced. "These are all combat reports?" "Da, Komrade Kaptain." "...Unacceptable. I thought these men feared failure more than death? They shall have to fear more." "Da, Komrade Kaptain." "What the fuck do you mean the Delphinus is damaged more." "I'm sorry, Ma'am, but, really, we're already patching up what we can, but we need repairs immediately. The ship is in dire condition." "...Are you looking at me funny?" "Huh? No, Ma'am, of course not, I've just never seen, I've just never seen..." "You've never seen what? A woman? I'm not surprised, I could tell just by looking at you. You're either a virgin or gay. Whatever. Get used to seeing a lot more of me, and as far as I care, this is as close to a woman as you're going to get from now on. I've got my eye on you. Now get lost and fix up my the damn ship. I can't let Rachel see it like this." Marc Simmons: 5/2 VP gained, Repairing+4 Otaktai Lone Wolf: 6+1VP gained, Repairing 3 Patrick Foley: 6/2 VP gained, Repairing +2 Issa Kobayashi: 5 VP gained, Repairing 3 Caleb DeGrau: 5 VP gained, Repairing 3 Richard Banks: 6 VP gained, Repairing 4 Felix Mendalshon: 6 VP gained, Repairing 3 Florian Cuyler: 6 VP gained, Repairing 2, Injured 2 Yoritomo Naizen: 1 VP gained, No additional damage Emil Myberg: 1 VP gained, No additional damage |