|
The battle for Earth has been a violent and tense affair for both the Earth Federal Ground Force and the Zeon Terrestial Ground Force. The last month is particular had been particularly nerveracking. Weary from their Odessa offensive, the Earth Federation was caught unawares by the sudden Zeon counterattack straight into the heart of their Headquarters. The Zeon attack was repulsed only for the Federal defenders to be hit twice more by ruthless attacks. The unrelenting Zeon attackers caused massive damage to the EF war effort. New ships for the EFSF were shot down as they rose into the sky to join their space brethren. The factories producing the Federal GM were nearly bled dry. But the Zeon forces paid for the damages they brought upon the Earth Federation. Many of their soldiers and best war machines perished in the hellish landscape that was once the Amazon rain forest. Once again they left the South American contient. This time, however, they did not leave alone. Morning in California Base on the Western coast of North America. Evening in Baikonour on the desert steppes of former Kazahstan. Despite being located on virtually opposite sides of the planet Earth, both Zeon fortresses will be put to the same test. In the western seaboard of North America, the Zeon fortress of California Base had just finish receiving the battle weary survivors of the Schutzstaffel Tactical Fighting Unit. Even to the untrained eye, the submarines showed the telltale signs of nonstop combat. A cheer had gone up when the fleet docked, a form of defiance against the grim turn of events on Earth. The Federal response to such defiance appeared barely a day later. The listening post along with the four Lugguns attached to California Base began to pick up massive sonar signatures. The current air patrol of Dopps went to investigate but were quickly ordered to return. To those who survived the Battle of Odessa and the Federal campaign that led to it, the sight that day brought dreadful memories. The same is happening in Baikonour as their Lugguns raise the alarm at the centuries old spaceport. While the Federal ground fleets of Operation Star One are a fraction of the massive Odessa force, they are to be taken just as seriously. Out into the ocean, three Himalayas form the core of the Star One Ground Fleet Alpha. Surrounding them are Hillocks, the massive gunship Iowa, and a flock of Medeas. Most notable is the Big Tray-class Sir Francis Drake. The ship has an illustrious history under General Revil's command and hoped to continue to do so in his absence. Lilienthal, commander of fortress Baikonour, knew the seriousness of the situation. There are no fewer than nine Big Trays and a monstrous Heavy Fork-class land battleship out there. By far, Star One Ground Force Bravo is the larger of the two ground fleets. "Well," mused Lilienthal to himself," at least I know the Federation is taking me seriously..." "Commander!" shouts a junior officer," the howitzer batteries report they are ready to fire as per the defense plan!" "Belay that!" shouted Lilienthal," if we do that too soon, they can fix counterbattery fire against them! Tell the artillery captains to stay concealed. I want every piece of hardware we have ready to fight!" The sense of urgency is no less severe back in California Base. The soldiers that returned with the STFU fleet expected a well deserved rest before the war found themselves again. Now, they ran out of cafes, restuarants, and their barracks as California Base went to full alert. Lieutenant Alec Irusk burst out onto the street with Nivina and Yuri by his side. "Well, speak of the devil..." muttered the Warmongerer as he looks out to sea. Corporal Gilgamos Uruk and Corporal Gil Krundel were trying to sleep in the barracks when the alarm and then the loud Gai Kaiser woke them up. It wasn't until they saw the shilouettes out to sea that they took their comrade's excitement seriously. The atmosphere is more ominious for the SS soldiers of the STFU fleet. They stood on the railing by the submarine pens, gazing at the approaching Star One Ground Force Alpha as though it was only a nuisiance. Captain Marina Nimue looked at Oberscharfuhrer Akira Sasaki, Sturmbahnfuhrer Raven Tarasova, Hands Bond, and then Sebastian Brennan. She can feel the devotion to Zeon those three had even when looking the barrels of Federal warmachines. In hindsight, she shouldn't be surprised. They are the SS and are Gihren's best. Therefore, they are the best in Zeon. As the Federal forces surrounded both Zeon fortresses on opposite ends of the world, the day would end with only one further incident. Separated from the STFU fleet at Jaburo, Captain Tony Knight had made his own way out of enemy territory. Upon seeing the Star One Ground Force Alpha take shape around California Base, the Gelgoog pilot went limped as fast as he can into the Zeon fortress. Only by sheer luck was he not shot by nervous guards on the way in. Alec Irusk - 1 VP Gained, No Damage Gai Kaiser - 1 VP Gained, No Damage Gilgamos Uruk - 1 VP Gained, No Damage Gil Krundel - 1 VP Gained, No Damage Tony Knight - 1 VP Gained, No Damage Akira Sasaki - 1 VP Gained, No Damage Raven Tarasova - 1 CP Gained, No Damage "Sir! A large fleet of Federation ships is approaching! Orders, sir?" Von Helsing stood confidently on the bridge of the Graf Zeppelin. He had expected something like this. The Federation war machine on Earth had been working overtime to generate this fleet of terror for space, and their troops on Earth had not been able to stop it, despite their valiant efforts. A lesser commander might have given the order to retreat, or to parlay, seeing no other way out for him and his men - but Von Helsing was no ordinary commander. "Open a comm link with the rest of our ships, bitte. Tell them to stick to the plan, and await further orders," Von Helsing's voice, with his thick German accent, echoed across the bridge. The composition of the large Federation fleet changed their plan little, and their orders not at all. They would hold their space for Zeon, or die trying. He suppressed a sigh; even with the herr Dren and his ragtag fleet, their chances of making it out of this one in one piece were slim-to-none. "It appears that Zeon wasn't quite as exhausted as I originally thought," Revil muttered to himself on the bridge of the Ananke III. He had been aboard the ship ever since its launch from Jaburo; chances of an assassination attempt by Zeon Panzergrenadiers had lessened considerably in space, and he flet comfortable on the large ship. "What was that, sir?" One of the comm officers had ears larger than your typical elephant's, it seemed. "Relay my orders to the Tianem, Blex, Wakkein, Reed, Jamitov and Ohm groups. We'll have to work together on this one," Revil gave the order as if he hadn't heard the young officer. Truth be told, any two of those groups would be more than a match for the enemy fleet, but if he played his cards wrong, men would die - men on his side. He intended to squash the enemy fleet with a concentrated offensive effort. On earth, attacking a group of that size with a group his size was impossible, but given the vastness of space, he had another dimension to work with. "Begin operation Pressure Cooker," he ordered. Operation Pressure Cooker?! I am going to have to give a bit more thought to the title of my next grand battle scheme. Oh well. If he was correct - and he often was - the strategy was much better than the title. "On my mark." An observer miles away would have seen a few flashes, as the gigantic vessels did battle. Von Helsing and Dren fought valiantly against overwhelming odds. They spread their ships as far apart as they dared, to make flanking difficult, and they concentrated their fire on a few ships in the Federation fleet; it was better to take some down with them than do minor damage to them all. For his part, Revil ordered the Tianem and Blex divisions to engage the enemy straight on, while the Wakkein, Reed, and Jamitov groups flanked the enemy, cutting off their escape routes. His own group, along with Ohm's, remained in reserve in case of a Zeon ambush from an unforeseen vector. As the Graf Zeppelin shuddered under the combined assault of no fewer than 6 Federation battleships, Von Helsing smiled grimly. The war had been difficult; he'd been given orders he didn't like, killed more men than most, ordered around more tons of metal than most, and done it all well, as a commander-soldier should. He'd thrown in with Zeon for political reasons, and practical ones, and his last salute was as much to Zeon's ideals as it was to his fallen comrades and to his opponents. Dren watched the Graf Zeppelin fragment, cut to pieces by the Federation assault. And the war in space was going so well. Dren hoped that Char was having a better time than they were. Given that he was up against that damned White Base, he'd need better luck than they'd had here. A beam tore through the bridge of the Camel, and Dren's last thoughts were of how beautiful the beam was, up close. "It looks like the operation was a success," Revil mused. There were no Zeon dots on the radar, and no one had observed any escapees. He'd leave a few complements of mobile suits outside as the fleet passed through the debris, just in case there were any survivors hiding among the wreckage. One could never underestimate one's enemy, even in defeat. Especially in defeat. "Losses, Lieutenant?" "The Mjolnir could not hold up under the concentrated enemy fire; we lost it, sir. A few other ships in the main assault force were heavily damaged: The Goliath, Victory and Nagahara, sir." Acceptable losses: Two words that he had grown used to thinking in this war. "Their sacrifices serve a great purpose, and we will not forget them." He would not, at least. The Federation fleet continued through space like a giant, metal amoeba - a little weaker for their recent battle, but a little stronger for their victory. |