|
Normally when the sun sets, it signals the end of all activity. Many species go to sleep for the night, leaving only the few nocturnal species to rule. It is a period of rest and tranquility. However, there are those who would break the rules of the universe for an advantage. Under a bright white moon, men moved silently through the South African jungle. Over a hundred Federal soldiers crept through the underbush. While modern warfare now favors mobile weapons, nothing can compare to the flexibility and simplicity of the armed soldier. They are the glue that holds an army together and war will always have a role for them. The formation stops as a recon squad returns from scouting ahead. "Target sighted sir," whispers the soldier to the major," sitting fat and dumb." "Alright," nodded the major before turning towards his lieutenants," tell the company officers to stand to. We are attacking in fifteen minutes." Turning to his radio officer, the major orders," Send out the signal to the Lleu Llaw Gyffes that we are ready and have eyes on target." The enlisted soldier nodded before cupping his handie talkie. "Raider to Babylon, the bread is in the oven. I repeat, the bread is in the oven. We are going to see the baker, roger." On the bridge of the Gallop-class Blauer Reise, the Zeon commander Hamon is trying to finish up some overdue paperwork. Ever since her last skirmish with White Base, the wife of the deceased Ramba Ral had worked hard to maintain his reputation. The ZMF Earth Resupply Fleet was Ramba Ral's last mission and Hamon would not let her husband's legacy be lost in this war. It was the distant sound of gunshots that got her attention. Hamon ran to the bridge windows, looking out into the darkness. "Something wrong, my lady?" asked a Zeon officer. "Someone is shooting out there," she observed. Before the Zeon officer can offer any sort of offhand explanation, an entire section of the forest lit up with muzzle flashes. Two Magella attack tanks blew up, doubtlessly killed by man-portable launchers. "GET US MOVING!" screamed Hamon at the top of her lungs," and tell Cima TO LAUNCH!" On the bridge of the Lleu Llaw Gyffes, Lieutenant Nigel Ferdinand watched as plane after plane lifts from the Himalaya's flight deck. Night operations are always risky for a carrier but seasoned crews and pilots are prepared for it. The sky isn't the only thing that is dark however. Ever since Ferdinand's outburst at Private Thorvald Siggurdson, the crew had been treating their commander like a uncle they didn't want but had to live with. That was fine for Nigel. "You know, I'm kinda glad that us groundpounders are becoming appreciated again." Kyle Webb, one of the original soldiers of the 42nd's Reconaissance Platoon, is one of the few who still feels comfortable around Ferdinand. "If you want to be useful," snarled Ferdinand," then go get me a cup of coffee." Webb shrugs and moved off. Someday, when this war is over, perhaps the wounds will heal. But for some, they would not see the end of this war. While the Blauer Reise managed to take off and get itself into gear, the same cannot be said for the Gallop-class Hogan. An entire company's worth of enemy Marines fell upon the small garrision force on that ship. The Hogan's perimeter was breached even before the order to secure bulkheads was given. Wild firefights erupted through the ship. The four Zaku II Js are moving about, firing their 120mms at the cluster of Federal marines on the ground. Suddenly, pink beams of light ripple through the Zakus, sending them toppling to the ground. The Beam Team skitted to a stop with their weapons trained. For Kyle Slater, Madelaine Moreau, and Tybalt Karister are given the job of neutralizing the Zeon mobile suits guarding this fleet. Behind them is their Guncannon HDT, who is raining supporting fire down for them. The Beam Team have been told to only expect Zaku types which they are confident they can easily handle. "Alright, let's go hunting," said Kyle," Madelaine will take the right flank and Tybalt will take the left. I'll go down the center. Let's move out!" A squad of Zaku II Ds from the Blauer Reise opened fire on the Beam Team. Sent by Hamon, their task is help secure the Hogan and to get her moving again. All they got is a face full of beam energy as their bodies added to the burning pyres in the night. Madelaine scanned the area with her beam spray gun once more before standing the GM back up. But then, there was movement and the former tank driver on reflex turned around and fired. But she was too slow, Cima Garahau is already soaring clear over the beam bast. Both feet of her Dom crashed into the chest of Madelaine's GM. As the mobile suit toppled, Cima swung the heat saber and where was one GM was now two. Everything happen so fast that Tybalt didn't even get to say anything witty about Madelaine's passing. Both his GM and Kyle's Ez-8 spun around weapons blazing at Cima's Dom. But as Federal aircraft howled overhead, the Beam Team loses another member. The fleet's escort of veteran Zaku II Js and Magella Attack Tanks concentrated their fire on Tybalt's GM. The machine staggered and tried to defiantly right itself under the fire storm. But in a matter of seconds, the only thing that was standing of Tybalt's GM is the pelvis joint. It took a moment for Kyle to accept the sudden loss of his Beam Team. Enough time for Cima to pounce with glee on the Ez-8. She recognized it from the northern trenches of Odessa and this is a sweet opportunity as any. "HOLD YER HORSES LADDIE!" Something blue and faster than Cima's Dom landed between her and her prey. A beam saber severed the 90mm MMP-80 in Cima's hand as she backs off. "Beg yer pardon, Kyle," chimed Thorvald Siggurdson in his Blue Destiny," but me and ze lass took a wee bit of a detour. We git yer back now." That we do. Let's go. "So c'mon and let's git some!" Kyle watched as the Blue Destiny charged Cima's Dom. A shower of 120mm rounds pelting his Lunar Titanium armor reminded him that there are other foes out there. The Ez-8 sprung back onto its feet. Eyes glowing red with vengance, the Ez-8 let loose bolt after bolt of energy from its beam rifle as Kyle confronts the rest of the Zeon defenders. Off in the distance, a lone sniper lurks in the darkness. Private E2 Aurem Senaiha trained his massive beam sniper rifle on the moving Blauer Reise. His task in tonight's battle is to help destroy Hamon's Gallop. But the fast moving land battleship and the uneven terrain is making it difficult for him. His personal mission is to cover Arieta's Land Combat GM. Her part of the mission is going well as Samson after Samson erupts into a mighty fireball in the distance. Back on the Blaer Reise, things aren't going well for Hamon. "REPORT!" she demanded. "We have lost all communications with the Hogan! The last thing we got from them is that they are fighting Federal soldiers on all decks!" "Train the main batteries on the Hogan! We cannot let it be captured!" "Yes, my lady!" Cima fired off her last Giant Bazooka round only to once again watch the blue mobile suit narrowly dodge AROUND it. "This is bullshit!" she screamed as she drew her heat saber," but I'm not done yet." The Dom's engines went to max power, pulling Cima into her seat. Thorvald saw the enemy Dom come at him and open fire with his vulcans. "Ha!" laughed Cima as her scattering beam gun discharged. It was as if sunrise came early for Throvald, the bright flash making him flinch. Cima saw her chance and aimed her heat saber for the Blue Destiny's chest. Not so fast! Although Siggurdson was blinded by Cima's attack, Marion was not. The EXAM system went into full gear as the Blue Destiny pulled out both beam sabers. Like a blind martial arts master in the old kung fu movies, the Blue Destiny pivoted and stretched around Cima's Dom. The beam sabers dissecting the high performance mobile suit like a butcher preparing a chicken. Suddenly, Cima had no more mobile suit and she felt what was left of the Dom's torso crash into the ground. Thorvald breathed a sigh of relief as he regained some control of the situation. Then something else caught his attention. It is the Blaer Reise charging at the Blue Destiny at full speed. The mighty land battleship is only a shadow of its former glory. Her AA guns swatted at the low flying Federal aircraft in vain as her main cannon turret sat there with its barrels limp. Depp Rogs and Fly Mantas made repeated bombing runs on it but yet the Gallop pressed on. Hamon hoped to bring the Gallop close enough to destroy the Hogan and at least prevent the EFGF from gaining a Dobday. But that is not the case, so she'll have to settle for a consolation prize. As her bridge crew dies around her, Hamon set course for the Blue Destiny. Thorvald saw this and tried to move. But the leg of the damaged Blue Destiny is stuck on the wreckage of Cima's Dom. With a warcry that came from the depths of his heritage, Thorvald Siggurdson fired everything he had at the Gallop. Off in the distance, Kyle Slater looked up from the mess of a Zaku II J he was holding in the Ez-8's hands. Seeing Thorvald's dreadful situation, Kyle pointed his beam rifle at the Gallop and opened fired. Round after round of ammunition struck the Blaer Reise, deforming it beyond recognition. But still it continued on. Aircraft and mobile suit pummeled it but the mighty Zeon engines held together. Then an energy beam that lit up the whole sky slammed into the Gallop. Aurem Senaiha's aim is straight and true as his sniper shot sent the land battleship spinning. Off in the distance, Arieta's Land Combat GM added her own firepower into the mix, setting the land battleship ablaze. The massive funeral pyre of Hamon flipped into the air, narrowly missing the Blue Destiny. It finally landed on its back and slide to an explosive ending as Hamon joined her husband in the afterlife. Throughout all of this excitement, Cima had pryed open the hatch of her defeated Dom. Spitting in disgust, she dropped into the African mud and made off by foot into the jungle unseen in all the chaos. As dawn shined on a new day, the forces of the 42nd Brigade served their handiwork. The Gallop-class Hogan is secured but cannot be moved for sometime. They are stuck for the moment. Victorious but stuck. Kyle Slater - 7/2 VP Gained, Repairing +2 Thorvald Siggurdson - 6/2 VP Gained, Repairing +3 Marion - 5 VP Gained Aurem Senaiha - 6 VP Gained, Repairing 2 Nigel Ferdinand - 6 VP Gained, No Damage Veronica Wu allowed herself a brief, discrete smile on the bridge of Athena's Wrath before assuming her standard military-frown. The Chivvay II had come a long way, along with the rest of the Zeon Expeditionary Force. She glanced out at the scattered debris littering the space outside of her ship. Twisted bits of metal and empty hulls floated serenely past, reminders of battles past to those who had remained alive. She smiled, because she had a plan; she frowned, because she was an officer of Zeon, sworn to her duty, resolute in carrying out and giving orders - and because the loss of her husband, Sun Wu, still burned freshly in her mind. But, rather than let her loss detract from her duties, she let it fuel the fire of her dedication. There would be a battle today, and she would be victorious: For herself, for Sun Wu, and for Zeon. The rest of the ZEF were clustered nearby, also waiting in tense expectation of the imminent engagement, hidden among the scattered debris like diamonds in the sand. The Minovsky particle interference was considerable, isolating each ship and mobile suit from the rest of the fleet, making the space seem even more empty, more foreboding, more sinister. Florian Cuyler was probably one of the only people who didn't mind. He was following orders, and that was enough for him. The Shee Weiss and its bits were his world, and it was no more lonely there than it was anywhere else. The only difference was that there wasn't anyone here to order him around. He thought for an instant about Emil Myberg, hoping he was okay, but recovered his focus almost immediately. Keeping track of the Shnee Weiss' many bits wasn't easy - even for Florian. And so he concentrated, and waited, along with the rest of the Patrick Foley polished off a breakfast of bacon and sausage with an alacrity that belied his apprehension. The greasy food was good, but he was nervous. BOLLOCKS was a good Federation fleet - a strong fleet - but he had heard rumblings of a substantial Zeon force in the area, and had done his best to prepare for it. On his orders, BOLLOCKS had re-organized to meet this new threat. He brushed his hands through his short mohawk and sighed. It was going to be a long day. Elsewhere in the BOLLOCKS fleet, Captain Nacho Quintal was doing his best to prepare the crew of The Factory for the battle that might be coming. He had thought long and hard about their tactics, and the role they'd play - well, long and hard enough. And if he didn't explain it all to his crew, it was only because they didn't need to know. They would be leading a reserve unit into the battle. "Sun Tzu wrote "The Art of War," but I will write "The War of Art!" It was a fitting conclusion to his speech. He wondered how Richard was doing back on earth, but forced his focus back to his crew. Felipe was scowling at him, no doubt disappointed by what he considered an incomplete briefing, but Connor was smiling appreciatively. The Factory hummed beneath him; they were ready. The action started rather slowly. "Federation ships sighted!" "Zeon fleet has appeared! The cries resounded in the ears of those aboard the ships. Mobile suits and other aircraft swarmed out of the ships like bees from hives. Ready to engage the enemy. "I'm getting too old for this," Alex Sentara sighed, as he guided his Saberfish II out of the hangar. From what he could see of the enemy fleet, it was big - bigger than they'd expected. Still, he was confident that they would pull through. Their commander was a fine strategist, and he'd brought them through worse - well, maybe not worse, but similarly bad, at least. He flexed the bionic muscles of his right arm, thanking technology once again for the quickness of response and power, and gunned his Saberfish II forward toward the buzzing cloud of enemy Zakus. The Lucifer's Fury would have rattled, had the battle been taking place on earth. But, as it were, the Zeon long-range artillery barrage disturbed them little. Beria and Dima followed the heavy ordinance with their eyes as it sailed over their heads. But the projectiles' quiet travel and seeming lightness in the vaccuum of space was brought to an abrupt end, as it shattered the two leading ships of the BOLLOCKS fleet completely. *pop!* "Fucking balloons again!" Beria was not pleased, but they had their orders. They had not gained the tactical advantage they'd desired from the artillery strike. "Retreat! Everyone, retreat!" The Zeon ships moved back quickly, fleeing for the cover of a large debris field, pursued by hordes of GMs, Balls and Saberfish - and closely by six Federation ships, moving in two sets of three, trying to move into a flanking position. Two small groups of Zakus split off to attack the two sets of ships, while the rest remained behind, doing their best to keep the GMs and Saberfish away from the retreating fleet. Providing cover for their own ships. "Got another one!" Cassandra Beckett cheered herself as she cannoned through another enemy Zaku. Her background as a girl of privilege back on earth had done nothing to dampen her combat spirit, and she sailed through the vaccuum almost gracefully in her Guncannon MPT. She sent another 2 200mm rounds into the nearest ship, which popped most gratifyingly. "Uh... Is that supposed to happen?" She hadn't been in many space operations yet, but she was fairly certain that there were supposed to be more explosions that that when a ship was killed in space. And more debris. And more celebration from her teammates. "Balloons!" The voice of Marc Simmons managed to crackle through Cassandra's speakers. Marc Simmons himself admired the invention of balloon-ships in space. There were the sort of thing a person like him would've invented. He wasn't surprised - not much, anyway. He piloted his Gm Command well, picking off one Zaku while dodging a machine gun burst from another. He could do it better if he had a Gundam. Perhaps his superiors would pay attention to his repeated requests after this battle. He'd show 'em. Meanwhile, one of the squads of Zakus dispatched to the flanking Federation ships had come back empty-handed, duped by more balloons. Their companions were suffering heavy losses at the hands of the Federation offensive; some more Zeon balloon-ships had popped, the Zaku squads were retreating in disarray, and the Lucifer's Fury had taken a few shots across its retreating backside. A cloud of GMs had descended on the Valkyria and, having found it was not a balloon, had managed to destroy it. Beria cursed at Dima, trying to force every ounce of speed out of their ship. They needed to retreat. "Balloons, huh? I guess we aren't the only smart ones." Patrick's GM Sniper II sat back in relative peace, patrolling the area around the Richmond as it led the attack on the retreating Zeon fleet. He set his sights on one of the enemy's Rick Doms, and pulled the trigger. A pink beam lanced out, and the unsuspecting enemy unit exploded in a cloud of purple shrapnel. One of the advantages of large space battles was that snipers were more-often ignored in the confusion of battle, especially if the enemy was retreating. Patrick Foley lined up another shot, feeling pretty uber-fucking-righteous. The battle was going well. Malak Lazarevich watched the action unfolding from miles away, comfortably seated in his Rick Dom II behind what had once been the mess hall of a large cruiser. It had been easy to hide a lone mobile suit in the debris that cluttered the area. Space was a big place, with big jobs. He glanced down at his watch as the Federation fleet started to move into the debris field. It was almost time. The Minovsky particle interference made it difficult to track what was going on, exactly, but he trusted his contacts to get their jobs done. He felt no sympathy for those who would die, and took little pleasure in the benefits it would give his employer. Jobs were jobs, and money was money. He just had to make sure he made well on his promises, so his employers would make well on theirs. He squinted into his forward monitor, trying to make out the shapes of the Richmond and the Duke. Any second now... Small explosions rocked the Richmond and the Duke. Their crew looked wildly at their M-particle-clogged sensor displays, trying to ascertain where the blasts had originated. It was only later that they would discover that the damage had been done by crews on the inside. Marc Simmons detected a familiar presence hanging in the debris field around him - a fellow Newtype, if he wasn't mistaken. He hadn't sensed it before, but he did now, and the feeling was growing stronger. And that could only mean one thing. "Ambush! Ambush!" He screamed the warning into his comm system, hoping someone would hear him through the M-particle interference. No one did. A lone warning flare went up from the GM Command before it was obliterated in a sea of bit-fired beams and artillery fire. Simmons' last thoughts were of how his actions would save the Federation fleet and ultimately lead to their winning the war, and his regret at never being able to build the completely-innovative, game-changing, beyond-useful Gundam motorcycle. The hidden Zeon Expeditionary Fleet poured from behind pieces of debris and the burned-out hulks of ships, like ants from many antihill. A Zanzibar, Musai, Chivvay II and Papua joined the Rick Doms and Zakus. The Orc, Gorgon, Minotaur and Richmond - the first of the pursuing ships - were mauled by the beams that came at them from all directions. The Orc exploded almost immediately, overwhelmed by the intensity of the enemy fire. The Minotaur and Richmond did their best to bring their ships to bear on the new enemies, trying to find points of weakness, but they were almost completely surrounded. Florian Cuyler lashed out with his bits, eyes closed, focusing on sending shots toward GMs, ships and attacking Saberfish. He had felt the presence of another Newtype, but only briefly. He regretted that he had not acted more quickly - not that it would have mattered; by the time the ambush had been signalled, the fleet had already sprung the trap. Suddenly, he felt another hostile presence nearing him. The Shnee Weiss dodged out of the way as Derek Carter zipped in with his Guncannon, firing madly at the enemy prototype. He could not forgive the enemy for Simmon's death, and though it was obvious they were very outnumbered, he would do his best to avenge his friend's death. He sent another couple of 200mm rounds Florian's way, and this time, there was no time to dodge. They smashed into the Schnee's left side, carving deep craters into the oddly-shaped surface of the mobile suit. But Florian's bit control systems were still online, and he retaliated quickly with the bits in the nearby area. Derek did his best to avoid, but the Guncannon didn't exactly excel in maneuverability, and his mobile suit suffered a few near-misses, melting portions off the legs and arms. He had begun his retreat when a shot from a Zaku Kai nearly pierced his cockpit. Junichi Ghettid knew an easy target when he saw it, and took the opportunity. He regretted only that the pilot had survived his first shot. He was circling around for the killing blow when the Fuji-class Factory nudged in with a few shots from its MPCs. "Not on my watch!" Megaparticles sizzled through the remains of an old battlecruiser, narrowly missing Ghettid's Zaku Kai. He swerved away, seeking easier pray, as The Factory covered Derek's retreat. The Fuji-class vessel had been damaged in the initial assault, but Nacho was trying to make the best of a bad situation. His crew responded to his barked orders promptly. Even if all of them didn't quite agree with their commander's methods, when it came down to it, they trusted his command. Even Felipe was doing his best, hailing the ships and mobile suits in their vicinity, trying to get a clearer picture of the battle raging around them. The Duke, Ogre, Harpy and Comodo followed closely behind the Fuji-class vessel, under Nacho's leadership, trying to turn their counter-attack into a successful retreat. Schools of Saberfish disintegrated in a sea of enemy fire, as the tide turned sharply in Zeon's favor. Alex Sentara weaved desparately through the enemy fire, concentrating just as much on staying alive as he was on killing enemy units. He narrowly avoided a Rick Dom II, rolling to avoid the fire from its torso-mounted scattering beam gun. Emil Myberg turned from the Saberfish and picked off a GM - the last of its unit - with a well-aimed blast from his 360mm giant bazooka. The energy of the battlefield flowed through his veins, as he reveled in the pleasure of the Feddie's death. His teammate Richard Banks sent a similar bazooka round streaking toward the cripppled Federation ship, the Gorgon, and was rewarded with a large explosion as the ship's weakened armor collapsed. Florian had certainly done a good job with the bits he'd spread around the battlefield. He'd have to remember to thank the kid later. The Federation Minotaur managed to bury a few MPC shots into the papua-class Long Haul before the Musai-class Freya's Anger sent it to join the debris that littered the area. The Richmond was still under heavy fire, but between its evasive manuevers, heavy armor, and the confusion of the battle, it had escaped destruction. The Federation ships were all turning to head back the way they'd come, but the M-particle interference made communication and tactical coordination difficult. Distress flares littered the battlefield, their orange glow giving everything a hellish tint. It was perfect: Caleb Degrau and Anya Wilds were having a field day with the re-forming Federation fleet. Degrau was hitting the squads of Saberfish and Balls hard with his machine gun; had they been fighting in a terrestrial location, the weapon would have overheated long ago. But here in space, it was efficient weapon for dispatching the poorly-armored Federation units. He worked alone, weaving through enemy and friendly fire with his Gelgoog, staunch in his assault. "Woo! Another one! You'd think the Feddies woulda gotten tired of making these Balls. Then again, I need the target practice." Anya Wilds dove out of the way as a wayward shot nearly took out her custom Zaku's arm. Her high-mobility mobile suit suited her quick wits and bubbly personality prefectly; she flitted in and out of danger, peppering enemy units with fire from her 120mm bazooka. Yorimoto, on the other hand, had found a specific target on which to focus his attention. Patrick Foley cursed as he jetted away from the beam rifle shots from the incoming Action Zaku. He had been relying on the Richmond's considerable complemet of AA guns to keep the air around him free of enemy units, but apparently, his luck had run out. Yorimoto clipped his arm with a beam rifle shot, melting it away and sending his sniper rifle tumbling out into space. Yorimoto grinned with satisfaction. There was something about taking out enemy prototype units that appealed to him so much more than engaging the hordes of commonplace units. Perhaps someday soon, he'd find a real rival, who could match him shot for shot, and blow for blow. Until then, he'd just keep looking. He rocketed away to find another target as Patrick sought refuge with a trio of GMs. Felix Mendalshon rounded out the assembly of Zeon ace pilots, as he threaded his way through the enemy units. A Saberfish tried unsuccessfully to roll away from the lobster-like claws of the Val Varo; he laughed as the unit's electronics overloaded. The unit exploded as his claws retracted, and the Val Varo went off in search of another target. By this time, the Federal forces had managed to pull an about-face, and were beginning the retreat proper. Nacho looked behind him as the Comodo, the last ship to leave the debris field, was destroyed by two salvos from the enemy Musais. A few GMs circled in behind to cover the fleet's retreat, sacrificing their safety and most of them, their lives, for the safety and lives of the ships they protected. The debris field quickly grew silent, as the Federation units left behind were quickly put down. A few more salvos from the MPCs of the Zeon Expeditionary Force were the only pursuit they offered. Fully half of the Federation ships had been destroyed, and many of the rest were limping along on their last legs. Veronica Wu was pleased. She eyed a damaged Rick Dom II coasting beside them; it appeared that her contact had made well on his promise. She had considered giving chase, pressing her advantage for a chance at completely annihilating the enemy fleet, but she knew that such a pursuit would be needlessly wasteful of Zeon resources. There would be time for another attack, but that time was not now. She felt a little like smiling, but the expectant faces of her crew were trained on her. "Well done," was all she said, before beginning the Zeon retreat from the debris field, to an area where communication would be easier. They had done well, but their job was not finished yet. "Bloody hell! Son of a bitch! Bollocks!" Patrick's words seemed empty in the face of the tragedy that had befallen his fleet, and his explanations for their defeat did not comfort him. His plan had been good. He couldn't have anticipated the enemy's intentions. They'd done the best they could. The defeat was not crushing - not for the man who had once served Zeon, who had rescued general Revil; he was made of some pretty stern stuff. Behind them, the debris field came to term with the new additions. Over time, the orbiting cloud of debris would dissipate. Some pieces would burn up in earth's atmosphere; others would travel through space for years, meeting their end after a short orbit of Venus, or perhaps Mercury, but most would simply drift aimlessly through the emptiness of space, slowly disintegrating. So, too, would the memories of the battle and those who fought it be recorded in the hearts and history of humanity. Tales of heroism, strategy and sacrifice would emerge from both sides, inspiring others to action, until they faded into the distance. The battle was over, but its effects would send ripples through the future of the war, and of humankind. Caleb DeGrau - 8 VP Gained, Repairing 2 Emil Myberg - 8 VP Gained, Repairing 2 Richard Banks - 8 VP Gained, Repairing 3 Anya Wilds - 9 VP Gained, Repairing 3 Felix Mendalshon - 8 VP Gained, Repairing 3 Florian Cuyler - 8 VP Gained, Repairing 3 Yoritomo Naizen - 8 VP Gained, Repairing 4 Junichi Ghettid - 9 VP Gained, Repairing 3 Veronica Wu - 9 VP Gained, Fatigued 1 Malak Lazarevich - 8 VP Gained, Repairing 3+1 Alex Sentara - 6 VP Gained, Repairing 2 Cassandra Beckett - 7 VP Gained, Repairing 3 Marc Simmons - 6 VP Gained, Killed in Action Patrick Foley - 6 VP Gained, Repairing 3 Derek Carter - 6 VP Gained, Repairing 3 Nacho Quintal - 7 VP Gained, No Damage |