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"Oh Hans.." The two rolled around on the bunk, the Tirpitz' chief sensor operator gasping lightly and clawing her nails into her lovers back. Her eyes rolled back into her head, her mind clouded by the sheer sensation of it all, the biting, the groping, the strokes of his amazing and rock hard- "Hans, this is the bridge. Your drop point has been changed, head to the flight deck. Our initial timing was a bit premature." Hans lifted himself up off of the redhead, grinning as he reached for his pants. "Sorry dear, first time for everything." A minute later, the black haired operative was wearing a specially designed yellow normal suit and checking his gear for the operation. The Zanzibar class Tirpitz dropped lower and lower, the surface of the ship heating up tremendously as it broke through the upper stratosphere. After putting on a rather gigantic backpack, Hans turned and looked at the flight controller, standing behind a glass panel in the room ahead of him. He gave the man a thumbs up, and then gripped the backpack straps tightly with both hands. "Commencing depressurization. Good luck Hans." The maintenance chief said, giving a quick salute before pressing a big red button on his console. The rear door to the Zanzibar slowly opened, Hans sucked out of the quickly depressurized cabin and flung into the Earths upper atmosphere. He pulled a strap on his pack immediately, a golden colored ballute bursting from the backpack and protecting him from the deathly friction of atmospheric re-entry. Hans kept a careful eye on his watch, counting down in his head even as he barely kept himself from blacking out. The flaming ballute dropped through the stratosphere, the light wispy clouds guarding the ocean below becoming larger and larger as he fell. "20 kilometers... 19... 18... Christ he's cutting this awfully close." One of the men on the bridge of the Zanzibar muttered. They were watching him on their instruments, but couldn't go any closer for fear of being discovered by the Federation. As the crew watched, a young redhead ran in through the back, frantically trying to adjust her hastily adorned collar. Hans continued to look at his watch, the number on the altimeter inside dropping rapidly as he fell. Eventually he pulled the strap on his backpack again, the ballute breaking apart and flying off into the black horizon above. Going into a nosedive, Hans watched carefully as the ocean below flew towards him. After a half a minute he caught a glimpse of two yellow dots just above the cloud layer, and opened his arms and legs. Built in fins on his normal suit extended between his extremities and his body, and like a giant wing Hans began directing his descent towards the two Medeas. The roar of the winds drowned out his thoughts as he flew, slowly coming into line with the Federation carrier that was growing exponentially larger by the second. Banking slightly right, then slightly left, Hans steadied himself until he was just on top of the carrier. His descent had evened out now, and he pulled his arms back into his chest, able to drop with nothing more than a bruise or two onto the upper deck of the carrier. Hans started to roll off the top of the Medea, but quickly moved to his belt, grabbing a circular suction device and locking it into place on the metal airframe. Holding on for dear life, he placed his body flat on the carrier, and looked around. There were planes everywhere, from Tin Cods to Fly Mantas to Don Escargots to even Depp Rogs. However, it didn't look like anybody had noticed his drop, and the minovsky particle blur coupled with his yellow normal suit backed on an identically colored aircraft would keep him from being seen at this point. Hans then reached behind his back, pulling a small metal object and placing it on the deck next to him. The top of the object started to blink ever so slightly, and Hans pulled a small wire out of its base, connecting it through an attachment on his suits helmet. "Mr. Bond, we're getting your signal loud and clear." The voice of a young but serious woman buzzed in his ear, the slight crackle of minovsky interference cutting into the laser transmission silhouetting her voice. "Marina Nimue, I haven't seen you since our time on Island Iffish. I hear it's not much of a tourist destination these days." "I'm not interested in your usual humor Mr. Bond, lets get on with the operation." Marina crossed her arms, her usual deathly stare palpable from hundreds of miles away. Hans grinned, reaching back behind him and pulling out a miniature laser cutter. "You know me Marina, I never keep a lady waiting." "Oh how I loathe the Pacific." Jarvis grumbled. The Llud had just met up with the Splizun, the two Medeas fast approaching their relay point with Ferdinands advance fleet. Jarvis and Nigel had been working in tandem for some time now, but always on opposite ends of the Earth. This would be the first major engagement that the Prince of Orange and the brat of Manila would have in common. "Sir, message from the Splizun. It's uhh.. It's Thorvald sir." The operator gave Jarvis the phone, the lieutenant letting out a long sigh. "He's drunk again isn't he." "'fraid so sir." Jarvis picked up the phone, almost immediately moving it a few inches away from his ear. "nn thas what I'ma tellin' ye laddie. No land around. I know me suits as blew as c'n be but tha' doesn't mean it c'n swim, why're ye sendin' me out'n'about n' away from New Amserdeeem, I hear dat' countries got greeeat laws'f all sorts. Not tha' I'd be intrstsd in any'f that I'mma conservative lutherin y'know n-" "Thorvald. Thorvald. Settle down. We'll get you back to solid ground in one piece, but we have an operation coming up and we need your help. I need you to sit down and stop drinking. Can you do that for me?" A vein on Ackarts head began to bulge. "But'm soooooooo thirshty." Thorvald hadn't taken Seattle very well, and it was well known. Jarvis sighed and hung up the phone, counting the man out for the operation. The Blue Destiny wouldn't be very useful in this kind of attack anyway. "Patch me through to lieutenant Ferdinand, would you?" Jarvis grumbled. His crew nodded, the Prince of Orange blipping onto the viewscreen a few seconds later. Nigel was found on the bridge of the Chicken Little, a name befitting the man he was in Africa, but not quite the man he was today. Having his wife captured, seeing Joe Dzurik die, and losing his kingdom had hardened Nigel, turning him into something much more than his former self. "Mr. Drake, how are you. Seems we're sharing the sky today." Nigel grinned cheekily, leaning over his bridge crew and covering the viewscreen. "I hear the Spanish Armada is moving for London, our ships are much smaller but I daresay we have the fighting edge." The two of them chuckled. It was a reasonable comparison, the idea that four Medeas would assault and destroy a Gaw. "Indeed. I trust you still have that sniper aboard your ship?" Jarvis asked, leaning back in his chair. The Excelsior had been spotted about eighteen hours prior, and the group was in hot pursuit. Ferdinand had come up with the battle strategy, and it was ballsy to say the least. "Negative on that. I've got a surprise for you when you get here." Nigel responded. He looked out the Chicken Littles forward window, watching the Big Tray slide across the ocean, covered head to toe with aircraft and GMs. "Did you bring Aurem with you?" "Well, if it's coming from you I'm sure it's a mighty expensive surprise. And yes, we have Aurem." Jarvis responded. In the hangar of the Llud, Aurem and Arieta were checking their equipment, positioned so that the two could fire their weapons from inside the small hangar. They were quiet, much quieter than they had been the past few days. In fact, they were acting more like they had been when they'd first met. Aurem's brief visit of Arietas family had been quite a shock, and the usually reserved man had snuck back inside his shell. The two shared uncomfortable glances, focusing on their work and trying not to complicate the situation until the operation was over. Outside the Llud, another wing of Tin Cods flew into view, meeting up with them just before the relay point. Jim Irwin had fought his way out of Zeon held North America on foot, enlisting the help of locals and guerrillas alike to make it back to Federation airspace. And what did he find when he arrived? Nothing but a new plane and an immediate sortie into the Pacific. It was not that he didn't want to serve, but they could have at least given him a day of R&R. It was tough being the Federations #1 fighter pilot. Far to the south, the Excelsior flew low, staying as close to the ocean floor as it possibly could. It was flanked by a dozen or so aircraft, five Doms, and three Goufs riding the new Dodai II subflight system. Beneath them were three gigantic shadows, one about half the size of the other two. "Gee Aldo, when they said see the world, they sure weren't kiddin'" Donny chuckled, zigzagging his Dom in front of the other Basterds in an attempt to hit them with seaspray. "Yeah, I kinda liked Tahiti." Hugo responded with a laugh. They'd spent the last night touring one of Earths most expensive and fantastic vacation retreats, and they'd met more than their share of women and bartenders. "Well, when we take this shithole of a rock over you two can go back. I'm a Side 3 boy for life." Aldo grimaced, sucking down a healthy portion of his cigar. The other Basterds laughed. "Yeah, we know boss." Below the waves, the SS crews faces were much more serious. Xavier had decided the damage on his Jukon was too great for direct combat, and had moved to the U-88, captaining the submarine alongside Marinas Lorelay. He silently vowed that he wouldn't abandon her like he felt he had done at Seattle. Not that she had said anything about it, if Marina had been replaced with a sentient robot it would probably make her more emotional. "Obersturmfuhrer, this is the Lorelay. We will arrive at the target coordinates in ten minutes." Marina said coldly. She watched the small beep of the laser tracking beacon atop the Medea, deposited by their operative an hour or so beforehand. He was still on the ship to be sure, and wouldn't make his move until the battle had already started. "Understood. Marina, let me take point this time, you stay behind and keep the Lorelay safe." Xavier said, the father that remained inside him showing through in his voice. "As you wish, mein Obersturmfuhrer." Marina responded. Her eyes glistened for a moment, and almost the entire crew of the Lorelay stopped in shock, looking at their commander. "What the hell are all of you looking at?! Everyone back to your instruments, load MIRV warheads in all missile tubes and prepare to engage enemy aircraft. Tell the Grabro pilot his first priority target is the enemy Big Tray. And rest assured I will shoot the first man who so much as misses the enemies of our Fuhrer today, is that clear?!" Above the waves, Rose and Finus played with the Basterds, zigzagging their Gouf Customs ahead of the line. Their units were packed head to toe with enough gatling rounds to create their own lead factory. Rose was in front, the SS mobile suit ace something of a legend both in her piloting skill and her physical beauty. Between Rose and Marina, there was a lot of rumor going around the TOF as to where Ghiren came up with these women. "Captain, enemy vessels are within range. Four Medeas, one Big Tray, and one hell of a lot of aircraft." The crew of the Excelsior was hard at work, a full bay full of technicians and professional hackers slamming away at all sorts of instruments and panels. "Wonderful, just wonderful. Monkey, make me a drink. The rest of you, start the jamming process." Captain Cornwallis chuckled, barely fitting into his chair. A martini glass full of gin was immediately procured for him, and he sipped it happily, watching as the cloud of Federal aircraft slowly came into view ahead of them. "They're pretty low altitude, looks like we'll have to deal with support fire from those Doms." Jim yelled, his personal unit of Tin Cods the point of the Federal airgroup. "I want Charlie team to move around their left flank, see if we can't-" Jim stopped short, a terribly high pitched screetch coming through his radio. He flipped it off immediately. "Nigel, looks like the enemy ship is invading our sensor and communication systems. ECM pulses, minovsky particle cloud, laser transmission broadcasted computer viruses, we had to switch everything to manual just now." Nigel watched the Tin Cods charge forward, the great purple behemoth hovering low before them. "Then we won't get another chance to address the fleet. Alright, take us straight through the middle, we'll count on our boys to carve us a path." Below the waves, Xavier stood in front of his chair, red lights illuminating the bridge of the Jukon as his crew finished their final combat preparations. "Captain, Cornwallis has patched you through the Excelsiors communications grid. We will be able to address all our personnel despite M particle interference." Brennan nodded to his subordinate, flipping a switch on his chair and addressing the fleet. "This is Brennan to all forces. Concentrate on the enemy bombers, leave the Big Tray to the Baekhesten and the Grabro. Marina, your target is the enemy fighters." Xavier gripped the side of his chair, smiling as the words 'Sieg Zeon' responded to him from every section of his fleet. In the next few seconds, Dopps and Tin Cods collided with each other, missiles streaking into the enemy and planes shooting right and left to avoid ramming each other. Just a few meters below, Doms skated out on the water, avoiding MPC blasts from the Big Tray while firing bazooka shells into the Federal aircraft. Donny slammed an armored fist down on a Cod as it soared by him, the beaten aircraft plunging into the water and exploding on impact. "This is like shooting sardines in a can! We can't miss!" Hugo laughed, firing round after round into the sky. Don Escargots exploded as bazooka shells hit them, while Rose and Finus kept a solid stream of gatling shells slamming into the Federation aircraft. "Three... Four... Five..." Adeline counted, watching the fighters explode in front of her. She thought she caught the contrails of a missile out of the corner of her eye, and leapt her Gouf off of its Dodai II. Whipping out her heat whip, she lotched the magnet end of it onto the Fly Manta that had hit her, and spun it round into another Tin Cod. Unfortunately she now had nowhere to stand, and could do nothing but plummet into the water. Finus met a similar fate, Irwin and his team slamming so many low yield warheads into his Gouf that it was knocked off its Dodai and left to splash in the waves. The subflight was killed soon after. Tin Cods kept a storm of missiles and vulcan shells onto the Doms, but there was very little they could do to penetrate their thick armor. Between the ineffectiveness of Federal guns and the skill of the Basterds, the Federations Don Escargots and Depp Rog bombers met a quick end. Aldo did a reasonable job of keeping the Fly Mantas at bay, letting off controlled bursts with his MMP-80 while his beam bazooka charged. He had yet to pick a target. "Captain, we have a lock. Permission to fire?" The Baekhestens weapon operator looked at Xavier, who gave a quick nod. "Sink the Tray and then prepare to dive. Too many of them in the air, we're beating them now but that won't hold long." He responded. Torpedoes shot out of the Baekhesten, accompanied with rounds from the Lorelay and their new Grabro mobile armor. The missiles slid under the air cushion provided by the Big Tray, magnetic sensors detecting metal and forcing the warheads to detonate. The land battleships air cushion was shredded immediately, the ship starting to sink beneath the waves. At around the same time, the GM Sniper aboard the Tray fired for the Excelsior, hitting its starboard wing but unable to deliver a killing blow. The act of firing from a sinking ship was too difficult. "Shit, looks like they got the Tray..." The pilot of one of the Medeas grumbled. A low beep started blaring in their cockpit, signalling a fire alarm in the passenger section. "Oh great, we must have gotten hit." "I'll go check it out." The copilot responded, unstrapping himself from his chair. He grabbed a fire extinguisher and rushed to the rear of the ship, opening the door to the blinking compartment. When he got in, he noticed a suspicious lack of a fire." "Who are you?" He asked, looking at the man in the room. An instant later he fell to the floor, a small gunshot wound penetrating his temple. "The name is Bond." Hans replied, exiting the room and moving quickly for the bridge. Aboard the Excelsior, Cornwallis and his crew shook, holding onto railings and the sides of bulkheads as waves of missiles impacted the ship. The Gaws AA gunners were doing a valiant job of keeping the Tin Cods at bay, and most of the heavy artillery had been sunk in the initial attack, but there were still a lot of flies in the air slowly chipping away at the ship. "Get us out of here, flank speed." Cornwallis howled, his blubbery body shaking with each successive impact. The Gaw made a wide turn to port, smoke trailing out of its damaged engine as it moved away. Missiles burst out of the water in its former position, rockets breaking apart and micromissiles scattering in all directions, destroying any number of Federal fighters. "Nice fireworks." Aldo grinned, chewing on the remains of his cigar as he fired what was left of his ammunition. The five Doms skated away with the Gaw, firing sprays of beams in an attempt to keep the Federal airpower away. "We're out of bazooka shells boss, nothing else we can throw at them." Donny yelled, avoiding missiles and shaking his heat saber angrily at the clouds above. Jim Irwin flew between the Doms, pulling up over a Gunship Heli and firing his missiles. The warheads impacted one of the Gaws rear engines, which started to flame and smoke. "Not letting you get away." Jim smirked, rolling off to the right and avoiding the return fire from the AA guns. One of the Medeas started to come in over the Gaw, the hangar door at the back open. Seth Yamanu and his marine team tied ropes to the Medea, preparing to rappel onto the Gaw and board it from midair. Aldo noticed the marines as the yellow carrier flew by, and decided he had finally found his target. He dropped the MMP-80 beneath the waves, grabbing his now fully charged beam bazooka and aiming it for Seth and his team. Just as he fired, a number of Tin Cod missiles impacted his arms, throwing his Dom off balance. However, Aldo was by now rather experienced at firing while off balance, and managed to clip the side of the Medea anyway. One of its wings totally destroyed, the Splizun crashed into the water, Seth, his team, and Thorvalds Blue Destiny sinking beneath the waves. "Boarding party has been neutralized, we'll need to go to plan B." Nigel said, the Chicken Little picking up speed and moving on a direct course for the Gaw. "Prepare the signal flares, tell Ackart we'll cover him. I'd love to bloody see them jam that." A number of colored flares shot up out of the Chicken Little, the Llud taking the cue and moving ahead. With the Excelsiors engines damaged, it was easy for the normally faster Medea to get ahead of it and into a firing position. "Aurem, that recon type doesn't have any beam turrets, so we're gonna put you right in front of it. You won't be able to miss." Jarvis yelled, his voice rattling down the hall and into the hangar. With Irwin and the Tin Cods covering them, the Chicken Little, Llud and Lady Isabella formed a V, setting up their firing angle opposite the Gaw. All was going smoothly, until suddenly the Isabella broke formation. "Sir, the Isabella just changed course, she's going to ram us!" "What the hell..." Jarvis said, his eyes wide as the Medea came closer and closer. There was blood splattered across the Lady Isabellas forward canopy, a single dark haired man in a yellow jumpsuit at the controls. There was nothing Ackart and his men could do. The Lady Isabella came closer and closer, but just before impact a volley of large tracer rounds cut into its wing. The compromised ship immediately lost altitude, sliding just under the Llud and failing to ram her. As the smoking Medea sank into the waves, Hans Bond emerged from the top, leaping into the water with the laser beacon in his arms. "Never thought I'd have to fire on my own ship." Nigel said to himself. The Chicken Little pulled away, allowing the Llud to move into position directly ahead of the Excelsior. The hangar door opened up, revealing Aurem Senaiha's GM Sniper, the Long Range Beam Rifle already aimed. Cornwallis' eyes went wide as he saw the GM ahead of him fire, the huge pink beam smashing through the recon Gaws bridge and cutting out the opposite side. The inside of the Gaw began to bubble, small explosions soaring across the ship until the reactor was compromised. The two wings of the Gaw popped off the body as if they were made to do so, the entire carrier exploding in a spectacular fireball. "Well... Shit." Aldo said, watching the remains of the Gaw as he and the Basterds retreated, carrying Rose and Finus' Goufs between them. The U-77 and U-88 sank beneath the waves, unwilling to continue engaging an entirely airborne enemy. All in all, the battle hadn't been a loss, but Xavier had once again failed to protect his fellow men, a fact that would continue to haunt him. The Federal airgroup withdrew as well, engineering crews wondering how they could save the badly damaged Splizun and its crew. Nigel breathed a sigh of relief, on edge after attacking a Gaw head on and somehow coming out victorious. He stood up, congratulated his men, and immediately collapsed. Exhaustion had finally set in. Xavier Brennan - 6/2 VP gained, No Damage Rose Adeline - 6 VP gained, Repairing 3 Injured 2 Finus Yamamoto - 7/2 VP gained, Repairing +3 Injured 2 Aldo P. Armistad - 6/2 VP gained, Repairing +1 Nigel Ferdinand - 6/2 VP gained, Injured 3 Jarvis Ackart - 6/2 VP gained, No Damage Jim Irwin - 6 VP gained, Repairing 3 Thorvald Siggurdson - 6 VP gained, Repairing 2 Injured 2 Seth Yamanu - 6 CP gained, Repairing 2 Injured 2 Aurem Senaiha - 5/2 VP, No Additional Damage |