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"Why thank you." Dozle said, his voice unable to help its own booming quality, even when being polite. The giant of an admiral took the coffee mug, sipping it quietly. The two of them were in Solomons central operations command center, looking at the scouting videos of the enemy fleet. It was gigantic. Dozle hadn't seen anything like this since Lourm. "They've outdone themselves this time." The admiral growled. Behind him, the wily Chinese woman took a sip of her own mug. "Should we send word to Kycillia? Her fleet is still unopposed." "You would ask the Mobile Assault Force for assistance. Feh." Dozle shook his head. Veronica was choosing her words wisely, not only because of a difference in division, but also because it was simply impossible to not be uneasy around the mightiest of the Zabis. "Her fleet would never arrive in time. Kycillia has forsaken us." Dozle moved a massive hand to a keyboard, turning on an encrypted transmission that went straight to his brother at Zum City. "Ghiren!" Dozle growled. Veronica blanched, wondering if she should get up out of her chair and stand at attention. She decided to refrain, and hoped it would not cost her. "My dear brother. I see the Federation is at our doorstep. Did you get the present I sent you?" Ghiren asked, his voice low and repulsive. While Dozles frame inspired fear and reputation inspired bravery, Ghirens frame inspired nothing, and his reputation inspired terror. "I can tell you what I did not get. Where are the blasted Gelgoogs I requested. Your toy mobile armor will not win this battle Ghiren!" Dozle clenched his fist around the half empty coffee mug, which shattered under its weight. "Toy? Why, I do think you underestimate the Big Zam, dearest Dozle..." Ghiren grinned. "In any case, do try to hold them off, would you. Our final solution to the Federation problem is not yet complete." Dozle slammed a fist down on the console, cutting off the feed. Veronica remained silent, taking another sip of her coffee in an attempt to ease her discomfort. "Hold them off... Bah. We are the Space Assault Force! We will defeat the Federation here, even without help from Ghiren and Kycillia." Dozle stood up, looking at Veronica. "Ready your forces general Wu. Tomorrow, we show the Earthnoids the spirit of Zeon." "As you wish, admiral." Veronica said, smiling low behind her coffee. And all the while, the ships on the screen slowly came closer and closer, the tremendous Birmingham visible at the head of the line. Alex Sentara: 1 VP Gained, no damage Breakfister Turbulance: 1 VP Gained, no damage Arleana Kerrigan: 1 VP Gained, no damage Ray Tatsuma: 1 VP Gained, no damage Lutz Leon: 1 VP Gained, no damage Vaan Kashky: 1 VP Gained, no damage Caleb DeGrau: 1 VP Gained, no damage Emil Myberg: 1 VP Gained, no damage Kenshiro Imawono: 1 VP Gained, no damage Olivia Baklitskaia: 1 VP Gained, no damage Ray Walker: 1 VP Gained, no damage Richard Banks: 1 VP Gained, no damage Anya Wilds: 1 VP Gained, no damage Felix Mendalshon: 1 VP Gained, no damage Florian Cuyler: 1 VP Gained, no damage Veronica Wu: 1 VP Gained, no damage Yoritomo Naizen: 1 VP Gained, no damage Junichi Ghettid: 1 VP Gained, no damage The earth-born, space-bound, Nigel-led 42nd brigade had merged with the considerably-larger Blex division of the Grand space fleet, but the ships were still separated from each other. Granted, the 42nd's 2 Columbus-class vessels had been tossed in with their tin-can brethren, to (they hoped) view every battle from a safe distance, but Orange Base had been assigned a position apart from the fleet. Blex had done it for his men, mostly. There were strange stories circulating concerning the Grey Phantom and its crew - how unpredictable their commander was, soft one minute, and rock-hard the next, how he had sent thousands of space marines to their deaths in an attempt to capture an entire Zeon fleet, how there was a mobile suit possessed by a fairy, that powered itself by eating men alive, and that one of the lowest-ranked heroes of the Earth Federation, Aurem "Paladin" Senaiha, was on board, stewing about the death of his fiance at the hands of one of the terrible Zabis. Rumors like that - even if half of them were half true - signified a dangerous ship, with a dangerous crew. They'd do their best to work together in the coming assault, but Blex had been careful to assign Nigel Ferdinand and the Orange Base a role that would not interfere with the main fleet's. It would be better that way. Orange Base had never worked as part of a larger group anyway, and Nigel was used to being in charge. This way, he wouldn't chafe under any imagined mismanagement. Blex knew enough about the man to know that he could be trusted to follow orders. Inside Orange Base, there was separation too. The two remaining members of The Beam Team were still worried about their lost loves, as was Aurem Senaiha. They kept to themselves most of the time, only emerging from their quarters or the ship hangar on official Federation business, to attend to their duties. It was difficult to keep one's focus, when the fate of one's loved ones and their future together was unknown. Thorvald was grumbling about how there was no fishing in space, and worse, how there were no fish! Serving in the Earth Federation just wasn't the same without the comforting smell of herring, delicately-aged, delivered by repulsed team members. The newest member of his mobile suit team was intriguing, to be sure, but still a bit fresh. He'd do his best to teach her, with Marion's help. His faerie was always looking out for him, and helping him to look after others. At the moment, however, the plight of his love-cursed fellow pilots was over his head, and he whistled happily as he planned something that was no-doubt against several regulations. Nigel Ferdinand himself, the Prince of Orange, felt that he had lost touch with his crew, of late. There was just to much to do! Then again, it was the duty of a commander to lead, not to be friends with everyone. He could delegate most tasks involving personal interaction with his crew, and of late, he'd been forced to do just that. Kyle, his personal assistant, had been the only one he'd had a halfway-decent conversation with recently, and even he seemed busy! Sometimes, a small voice in the back of his head reminded him that captaining a ship was more than just paperwork, but it was hard to believe, at this point. Setting a large stack of papers aside - a stack that he would have goggled at, had he been faced with it a few months ago - he opened communication with Orange Base, and began speaking, in as calm a voice as he could muster, "The siege of Pezun is set to begin at 0400 hours. All personnel should report to their commanding officers for the pre-siege briefing. Godspeed." Not his most inspiring speech, but it got the job done. If he had time, he'd think of something better for when the assault actually began. "A large fleet of Federation vessels are approaching, commander." The Zeon comm officer saluted Killing smartly, before returning his attention to his post. Killing contemplated the possible outcomes of standing against a united Federation fleet of that size. He'd have to break them against Pezun somehow, and rally his own men for a difficult fight. "Tell the men to assemble in the hanger in two hours. We need to prepare for our Federation guests. Hopefully, they won't be staying long!" Aurem Senaiha: 1 VP Gained, No Damage Kyle Slater: 1 VP Gained, No Damage Evander Creed: 1 VP Gained, No Damage Thorvald Siggurdson: 1 VP Gained, No Damage The dawn came slowly as sunlight pushed away the shadows on the battlefield. The fortress of Baikonour woke up to the Star One Ground Force Bravo still there. A stalemate of sorts have settled over the Russian steppes and both sides have no problem letting the other know that they are still there. Artillery and gunnery crews rub the sleep out of their eyes as they file into the latrines and then off to breakfast. Officers pass down the day's fire mission orders to their NCOs who then proceeded to shout the information into the enlisted ranks. Growling, groaning, and cursing their way to their stations, Zeon and Federal soldiers alike settle back into the task of raging war. The first shells of the day crashed upon their targets before the thundering booms is heard. The volleys are soon replied by earthshaking counterbattery fire as the air became live with ammunition. Scores of metal shriek overhead back and forth in an unending exchange of death. But it does end. Like the day before, the punishment from the artillery bombardment lead to little result on both sides. Artillery observers scan the long distances, trying to pick out any sort of success from the day's effort. As night reclaims the Baikonour region, officers shook their heads at each other in debriefing rooms. Tomorrow is another day to try. |