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"Just a touch more, Private, he'll be rounding that bend any minute now." "Sir." A Type 61 peered out from a sparse copse, shaded by the low hanging branches of wide-trunked evergreens. Staff Sergeant Cray Vermillion waited patiently for his mark. Marks, actually-- a Ground GM and a Mass Production Type Guncannon. Right now, however, he was anticipating the appearance of the imposing Guntank. Imposing, yes, but an excellent target for the Type 61's cannons. Some kind of mechanical noise, a vibrating ululation, grew in volume off behind a hill to the tank's left. "Preparing to fire." "Cannons armed." The Mobile Weapon passed the rocky hill, and to the Vermillion's momentary surprise, it was not the Guntank, but instead the GM. Since beggars can't be choosers, Vermillion decided the GM was equally an excellent target for his Type 61 to prove its worth in an age of Mobile Suits against. The GM apparently didn't notice the relatively miniscule tank hidden by piney boughs, and continued its mechanical stride past the hill and in front of the copse. "Now would be a good time to fire, eh? After we fire, pull us back into the woods, Private." "Sounds good to me, sir!" "Knock it off with the 'sir', already!" A powerful impact rocked the GM, scrambling its pilot inside the cockpit. The Type 61 had fired its cannons, the first round just barely scraping past the lumbering Mobile Suit, but the second round hit the machine's shield dead on. Paint splattered the whole shield, and now the creamsicle paintjob was barely visible at the edges. It quickly regained its balance before turning to face the direction the impact had come from, recolored shield raised in defense. Strafing sideways, back to the cover of the hill, its cameras whirred and pivoted, trying to find the source of fire. "I really don't need to get hit by that again! Zanzen pulled his machine's weapon up, zeroing in on what he thought might be the enemy's position. He squeezed off a few rounds, but the Type 61 had already retreated backwards, and the paint rounds served only to decorate the snow and a few tree trunks where the tank used to be. Cursing, he pulled the Mobile Suit's facing to the hill, and hoped against hope that he could make it to cover before another round came out of nowhere. Unfortunately, it turned out the hill wasn't going to be providing any cover. Instead, it would just be providing a Guntank MPT, which roared over the crest of the hill, clearing the ground beneath it as it opened fire on the shocked GM. All the behemoth artillery unit's machine guns blazed, and paint rounds splattered the ground at the GM's feet with colorful (and biodegradable!) pigment. Rounds hit the ankles and shins of the bipedal mobile suit and kept going up, finally stopping at the GM's waist, where the colorful shield had prepared itself for more rounds. The Guntank stopped firing as it hit the ground, sliding a few feet as treads began to spin again, kicking up snow in several directions. The Guntank spun to face the stumbling GM and lowered its main weapons. The GM fired with its machine gun, the last remaining rounds in the magazine painting the left arm of the Guntank and part of its torso, but it wasn't enough to stop the Guntank from firing its Howitzers, one behemoth paint round hitting the GM's gun, knocking it out of hand, while the other round hit it directly in the middle of the chest. The two rounds in combination were enough to knock the GM completely off balance, and it fell into the snow, defeated. Zanzen wondered if that Arctic climate refit offered by the mechanics would've helped. Probably not. On the other side of the narrow thicket of trees, the Type 61 and its occupants kicked in to high gear, and plowed through the snow to a distant cliff, hoping to find cover at its wooded base. Once again, however, cover was not to be, and the Guntank ripped around the perimeter of the thicket of trees the Type 61 had just exited, and began firing all its machine guns once again. The hull of the Type 61 was pelted with paint rounds, and the annoying sound they made on impact probably did more damage to the occupants than the violent rocking. A new paintjob and a few hours later, Jack Murphey still felt extremely satisfied. Sweet, sweet vindication, he thought, and then it was back to filling out paperwork. Jack Murphy: 5 VP gained, Repairing 1 Cray Vermillion: 3 VP gained, Repairing 2 Zanzen Hosei: 2 VP gained, Repairing 2 The sun rose over the calm waters of the Hudson Bay, it was a beautiful day, and for some, a perfect day to test their skills. Jarvis Ackart and his subordinate Aurem Senaiha were about to do just that, lining up their mobile suits for a practice duel. Though Senaiha was a sniper by trade, both units held machineguns in the interest of fairness. The two weren't in particularly social moods, and felt nothing need be said as they signaled ready to begin and instantly leaped into combat. The GM Command stood out like a sore thumb on the tan and green shoreline, but it's speed made up for the lack of camouflage, as paint rounds turned the sand blue around Jarvis's suit. Aurem's sniper model slower, but it's dark green paintjob blended nicely with the tree-line, giving him the extra fractions of a second he needed to avoid his opponent's returning fire. Dueling in circles, the two continued with their graffiti of the landscape. Any onlooker may mistake this for some sort of performance art, at least until both machineguns ran out of paint ammo. Left handed, both GMs fenced with beam sabers as they ejected their empty magazines. Both men knew that the first to get the chance to reload would have a clear shot at victory. Simultaneously skipping backward, the two thrust forward with their sabers. The sniper stabbed downward into the Command's leg, immobilizing it. The Command swung upward, obliterating the Sniper's head. Both dropped their sabers and immediately jammed a new magazine into their guns. "He's still right in front of me," Aurem thought aloud, "It doesn't matter if I can't see him." Firing directly ahead, he was shocked by the loud thud coming from outside his machine. Hit warnings went off like a myriad of alarms, and as the backup cameras came online, the sight of an unpainted GM Command firing from a haphazard prone position confirmed his defeat. Having even less to say to each other than before, the two hauled their crippled GMs back to the Blackhawk, and to the inevitable scolding for using full power beam sabers in a sparring match. Jarvis Ackart: 5 VP Gained, Repairing 1 Aurem Senaiha: 3 VP Gained, Repairing 1 The sun was rising on the Morrocan country side as the Bin el Ouidane river cut through the plains, twisting and turning as the water flowed peacefully. Four large shadows could be seen just under the water, the ominous figures sending Gazelle's fleeing from the river bank, and birds into the sky. The first rays of light danced through the billowing cloud of dust that was left in the rogue Samson's trail. The transport had left the African Union base, Kayla in the cover of night in hopes of making it out undetected, trying to put as many miles on its tires as it could before they needed to stop. "Terrorist transport detected...1500 meters and closing" The serene waters of the river broke as a metal dome breached its surface, a red light flashing brightly within the head of the Gogg. The Zeonic aquatic suit scanned the plains just west of the river, its monoeye tracking the Samson as it blazed a trail closer and closer to the river's edge. The water directly behind the scouting suit lit up a bright red as the three remaining Barracudas awaited anxiously to dispatch of the rogue cargo truck. Returning to the depths, the Red Barracuda's prepared to launch their ambush on the unsuspecting Samson transport. "Shit!" The driver of the Cargo truck shouted as the river erupted violently in a bright flash of light. Water rained down upon the Samson as a Mega Particle shot brought it to an abrupt stop, sending the passengers jolting forward in their seats. The African Union members began to panic as their transport was quickly surrounded by three Goggs. The fourth crawled out of the river, the water cascading off its body, steam rolling off the suit's stomach where its cannon was housed. Its clawed arm came crashing down in front of the cab of the truck, its steel arm creaking as dirt and rock showered the windshield, shattering the glass. The driver and passenger nearly passed out as the red Monoeye peered through the driver's side window, humming as the optics focused in on their faces. "I see you..." The lead pilot grinned as his targeting computer highlighted the terrorists' faces. The Truck began to shake as one of the other Barracudas' began to press on the trailer with its foot, the lightly armored steel freighter crumbling under the weight. The squad leader removed its claw from the ground and took a step back from the damaged transport. The air began to crackle as it became super heated, the mega particle cannons in its torso began to buzz to life. "Now die like the terrorist scum you are!" A bright light erupted as the truck was engulfed in Mega Particle fire, the screams of the rebels dying quickly as their lives were taken from them. The light from the fiery wreckage reflected off the metal bodies of the Red Barracudas, the smoke billowed into the morning sky, blemishing the otherwise beautiful scene. The four aquatic suits watched awhile longer before turning and making their way back into the depths of the river. |