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Post by Darkapostle222 on Sept 18, 2014 4:15:38 GMT
November 23, UC 0079Less than an hour. That was all the time that had passed since the ambush, since the poster-boys of the North American front, the Gorgon Team and their 'undefeatable' ace, had found themselves caught in a trap. Since then their world and the comfortable reality that they had known for almost a month had suddenly collapsed around them. Cut off from friendly forces and greatly outgunned and outnumbered they had been shot down one by one with little hope of escape. Now out of the original five only two remained, the survivors having barely escaped due to a timely extraction by the Dodai bombers they had flown in on. Though relatively unharmed, they had both seen two of their comrades and, perhaps more shockingly, their commander struck down in front of them. They had been helpless to change the result then and would have little other than time to reflect on that failure now. Flying relatively close to the ground as to try and not draw the attention of enemy aircraft or reconnaissance units, the squadron of bombers and the Mobile Suits that stood on two of them like pedestals were making haste towards friendly territory. The lines of battle had greatly shifted since the beginning of the Federation assault that morning and where Zeon Forward Operating Bases had once stood now only burned out vehicles and ruined fortifications remained. There was no telling how far the Federal troops had advanced, at least not until they reach allied troops. That was when a voice came over the radios of Tristan and Rand's machines, it belonging to one of the pilots in the squadron of five Dodais, ++Oi! Mobile Suit Jockeys, eyes up! I know you two have been through some shit but there's no time to rest yet! We're being rerouted to a battle in progress to try and relieve what's lest of allied forces. We'll drop you off right on top of the Feddies and then provide some fire support, alright? We'll pick you back up when we clear up some space!++Not waiting for a response from their passengers, the Dodais made a gradual turn towards the north. It would only be a few minutes until the signs of pitched battle would come into sight, tracers arcing through the sky and clouds of smoke billowing up. Drawing even closer they'd have a clear view of Federation forces advancing on a dwindling number of Zeon troops. It was clear that if something wasn't done quickly then what was left of their allies would be wiped out. Coming it at full speed, the Dodais unleashed a volley of missiles at the back of the Feddie forces just as the pilot once again called out, ++Alright, drop now!++------------------------------------------------------------------------ Lt. Jeremy Elrod Earth Federation Center of Federation Battle Group ++Alright,++ yelled the Federation pilot over the comm system, ++Let's finish these guys off!++Aiming the machine gun of his GM, he let off a rattling burst of high-caliber fire towards what was left of the Zekes in front of him. The battle had been a long and brutal one that had lasted from the time that the sun had first poked over the horizon to now during the dwindling hours of daylight. Resistance had been fierce with the situation being made even more difficult by the fact that most of the pilots under his command were rookies. Many of them were dead now, killed in battle with their hated foe, but that was what made the sight of another Zaku going down with his chest riddled with holes from his weapon so satisfying. Unlike his men, and most Federation Mobile Suit pilots in general, Lt. Elrod had a great deal of experience. As part of a unit put together to pilot captured Zeonic Mobile Suits, he had gained insight in their use that had made him a natural choice for a screen leader. It wasn't an easy job for sure but that didn't mean he didn't enjoy it. No, being able to take the fight to the Zekes on equal terms like this was a dream come true. ++Yuan, watch your aim! Stop wasting ammo! Louis, stop hiding behind your shield. It limits your mobility and you're falling behind!++Amateurs. His men were total amateurs but then again what else could he expect? Federation MS were still a new phenomena and it would take time for the pilots to adapt to them. Jeremy simply would've preferred that they'd work out all the kinks before sending them to the battlefield. Still, he realized that thinking clearly wasn't exactly the brass at Jaburo's strong point. As the remnants of the GM teams closed in on the last remnants of the Zeon defenders, they were supported by units of Type 61 tanks. Stomping forward and unleashing fire with machine guns and bazookas, the Mobile Suits protected their weaker comrades and were in turn supported by the armored units. They were a well oiled-machine, cooperating in a way that Jeremy knew the Spacenoids couldn't match. What was left of the enemy was a loose rabble of Zakus and Magella Attack tanks, all of them firing frantically with their weapons as they attempted a fighting retreat. From what Lt. Elrod could see there was no discipline left among them though he wasn't quite sure about the cause. Perhaps their leader had been killed at some point during the fighting early that day or maybe this was just how the Zeon acted when they were losing. Either way it was pathetic. Panic fire wasn't going to save them. ++Lieutenant!++ came a frantic voice suddenly over the comms, ++Unknown contacts rapidly approaching from the south!++Before he could even the respond, Jeremy gritted his teeth as the ground shook under the impact of a heavy bombardment. Though his machine was unharmed, several tanks had been torn apart by explosions and one of his team's units had suffered some damage to it's leg that caused it to fall to a knee, the panicked cry of its novice pilot nearly blowing his ear drums out. Grumbling as he swung his GM around to face the direction from which the attack had originated, he caught sight of a squadron of Dodais carrying two Mobile Suits. This? This was their reinforcements? The Zekes were getting more desperate than he thought. ++Don't be distracted by the newcomers! Just focus on the enemy closest to you and wipe them out. Let's finish this up and call it a day gentlemen!++Machine: RGM-79 GM Main Weapon: 100mm Machine Gun Secondary Weapon/Hand Shield: FADEGEL Shield Sub Weapon: 2x 60mm Head Vulcan, 1x Beam Saber ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Map Key: 79 = RGM-79 GM
75mp = RX-75 Guntank Mass Production Type M61 = Type 61 MBT
06J = MS-06J Zaku II Ground Type 06K = MS-06K Zaku Cannon 05 = MS-05 Zaku I YS = Dodai YS MA = HT-01B Magella Attack
Grey Lines = Concrete Defensive Wall Zeon: 1 = Tristan Kimblee 2 = Rand Tyvin 3 = Augusto Almeida
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Post by PicklesInYourJar on Sept 19, 2014 23:19:07 GMT
Tristan Kimblee Principality of Zeon Atop the Dodai BombersThe was something to be said of what losing felt like, there was a point in time were the loser would sometimes question their worth, whether they'd ever been good enough to compete or were they just fooling themselves to begin with? This was what Tristan struggled with now, although to a much greater extent. This wasn't simply a competition were if they'd just lost he could congratulate the other team and lament their mistakes, this was war, lives hung in the balance as every action and mistake could decide the fate of each man or woman involved. He was still in shock, the feelings that had begun to grip him were overwhelming now. Silently, he sat alone inside the cockpit of his Zaku Cannon Type with his comm off but open to communication. He quickly brought the palms of his hands to each head as it hung low, the gravity of what had happened barely an hour ago setting in all over again. It replayed over and over again in his head, with his eyes closed tightly he could perfectly visualize the events of the day, he see the ends that both Ronan and Captain Waltz had met at the hands of the Earth Federation. He could see Kim's damaged white Zaku II as it fell forward and lied their motionlessly, and he could recall being hurried to the Dodais instead of being told to assist their fallen comrade. He couldn't easily dispatch these feelings, there was a deep feeling of worthlessness and self-doubt that was being to take root, as he questioned the choices he'd made. " Would Kim have went down if he focused more his fire to support her, If he hadn't been careless could he have kept the Earth Federation from coming down on his comrades? " these were the questions that he struggled with, but they were pointless and dangerous thoughts, that were threatening to engulf him entirely, drowning him in a sea of guilt. There was still something, for whatever it was worth, despite how much of a shit show today had been, he still had Rand. As Tristan continued his inner struggles, looking for somewhere else to focus his mind, the comm in his Mobile Suit opened, ++Oi! Mobile Suit Jockeys, eyes up! I know you two have been through some shit but there's no time to rest yet! We're being rerouted to a battle in progress to try and relieve what's left of allied forces. We'll drop you off right on top of the Feddies and then provide some fire support, alright? We'll pick you back up when we clear up some space!++, Without a doubt it was one of the pilots letting them know that despite what they'd just been through, they were still needed elsewhere on the battlefield. It was indeed something that Tristan could use to refocus his mind, hopefully pushing his previous emotions to the furthest and darkest recesses of his mind, but it was anything but a welcome distraction. Tristan felt a catch in his throat as he immediately felt a sudden hesitation that he'd never felt before. It had barely been an hour since he'd lost most of his unit in one fell swoop, but much like the emotion he'd felt through the day, he pushed them down as he looked for something stronger to replace them there would be time for self-loathing later. Steeling himself for another confrontation with the Earth Federation, he replaced them with the promise that somewhere on the battlefield they were in route, there was someone there that was fighting for what he'd been fighting for, to ensure that his team managed to make it back in one piece. Somberly he replied with a single machine-like reply " Understood,"
A Few Moments Later Tristan Kimblee Principality of Zeon Dodai Drop-ZoneAs he was ordered, Tristan dropped from his respective Dodai in time to see the Earth Federation advancing on a significantly smaller number of what appeared to be panicked Zaku pilots and Magellans. Tristan could feel for them immediately, he knew the hopelessness that a situation like this could create in their hearts, but at the same time he knew that their erratic and frantic firing wouldn't help them in the slightest. If any of them wanted to turn the tides of this fight even slightly, they would need to reign them back in, boost their confidence back, let them know that the situation that they were in was not a completely lost one. That would prove quite the task with only two Mobile Suits and a Squadron of Dodais. There was something else here though, as soon as he'd laid eyes on the Earth Federation Units, there as something that clicked inside him. Never before had he felt this much animosity towards them. Maybe that was the right words for it, he wanted to wipe them all out, even though they weren't to blame for earlier nor would it have brought Kim, Ronan or Waltz back. Such thoughts hurt more than they helped at this point, so he suppressed them as best he could, their job here was to salvage the situation and salvage was what he'd try to do. Taking advantage of the little moments of surprise they'd had, already within sufficient range, Tristan he begun leveling his Zaku's Shoulder Cannon on one of the Earth Federation Mobile Suits that was moving while behind his shield(Yuan), making this his target he took aim with his Zaku Bazooka, shortly before he fired the powerful shoulder cannon, then in a few more moments he fire the Bazooka upon the same target, he meant to start this fight with some momentum attempting to take out a single target with a bit of powerful concentrated fire. He wanted to show the panicked Zeonic forces that he truly meant it when he said to them over an open comm ++ We've got you now, there's no more need for any further panic and wasted fire, squad up and let's get this done. ++ It was a little excessive and corny for Tristan's tastes, but it was said with much more confidence than he'd felt, however if it was what was really needed to rally their remaining Zeonic forces, than he'd do it in a heartbeat. There was no need for him to say anything to Rand at the moment, he was sure that they both felt the same way about this new situation.
Machine: MS-06K Zaku Cannon Type Main Weapon: ZMP-50D 120mm Machine Gun (100 Round Drum) Secondary Weapon/Hand Shield: H&L-SB25K A-P 280mm Zaku Bazooka Sub Weapon: 180mm Shoulder Cannon Sub Weapon: 2-Tube Rocket Launcher
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Richter
Principality of Zeon
Posts: 6
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Post by Richter on Sept 20, 2014 20:23:39 GMT
Lt. Augusto Almeida Principality of Zeon Front-center of the Zeonic LinesIt had been Augsto's first real action in North America, though not his first posting. He'd been unloaded from a transport in Mexico and spent a brief time there before being rushed to base after base along the Eastern front of this particular theater of the war. Supposedly their lines were holding, but the situation was anything but stable since the fall of Odessa over in Europe. That big shebang had the entire brass of the EAF scrambling to try and consolidate power anywhere it still had a decent foothold in, for now this continent was probably the best chance for that they had. Almeida had heard in much more recent news that a large scale attack had begun all across the frontlines, and his cushy position amongst the reserves was summarily axed in favor of moving him and his unit up to the firing line to help fill in the gaps made by combat and attrition. Sounded like an easy job at first. It wasn't. They didn't even get the chance to deploy to their new postings, such was the speed and ferocity of the Federal advance. Several outlying bases and outposts had been overran, and if it wasn't for stragglers filtering back from further afield, the Lieutenant and his comrades might have been caught dangerously unawares. Not that it'd have changed much, they'd been getting beaten, bloodied, and bruised continually by the advancing EFF from the get-go. The introduction of Federal mobile suits wasn't that new strictly speaking, but a lot of men had yet to face one in battle, and as the Feddies themselves could tell you, it's a whole different ballgame when the other guy had a walking death machine to match your own. For now the defenders remained unbroken, but they rode the razor's edge, and it seemed that they weren't going to last more than mere minutes at the current rate things were going. "Now this is what I'm used to." Augusto muttered to himself as large caliber bullets flew past, burying themselves in the earth or shattering concrete as they hit the wall some meters behind him; seemingly unfazed by the roar of battle and associated carnage. By now most of his comrades were surely fatigued from the battle, but he was not. He was lucky to have brought a little pick-me-up with him, and for that he was kept as lively as a wire. The earthnoid pondered the situation around him as he sat in the cockpit of his gouf, clad only in his uniform. He chose not to wear his normal suit today and that was a fact he was very, very happy for in hindsight. Almeida was heavily debating ditching this machine and trying to escape on foot if things didn't turn around sooner, rather than later. Most people would say such a feat would be tantamount to suicide. But as a seasoned rebel, he wasn't worried. He'd escaped from worse, but in truth, he'd rather not abandon the soldiers at his side unless it became strictly necessary. "It might be at this rate." Came the reply to his own internal question, as another zaku was blown into twisted scrap beside him by a large caliber machine gun. Catching sight of something out of the corner of the eye brought Almeida to turn and look skyward, just barely able to catch sight of the squadron of dodais before their payload of missiles fell like the wrath of a god amongst the EFF's battle group. Hawkish perception revealed only a pair of mobile suits descending from the backs of these craft, despite there being over twice that number in bombers. Ah, but what kind of position was this to be a beggar in? "Eyes wide, amigos! We're not through yet!" The pilot called to his brothers as the rear strike commenced. Morale amongst the defenders was pretty much nonexistent, and their panicked, uncoordinated counterattacks made that uncomfortably clear. They needed some good news, and he wasn't averse to having a little support either. He was good, but not good enough to match these kinds of odds alone. As a call came in from their reinforcements over the comms, Tristan in this case, he was snappy in his reply. ++ Haha, you were almost too late for the party! I don't know who you are but I owe you a drink for dropping in! I'm with you, let's bury these jokers. ++Prior to now, the Lt. had been eyeballing what he assumed to be the leader of this company, the pilot of that GM dead and center to his right. The middle of this entire line was held by that guy alone, supposing a daring pilot were willing to take the risk and sever the head of the serpent, they could slice their group in two - any rank or morale he may inspire in the rest was just an added bonus. With his side on the verge of losing he had instead focused his fire on weaker prey to try and cull the numerical advantage the Feddies always seemed to hold. Sadly for that unlucky pilot there was no need to hold back any longer with help on the scene, as Almeida was nothing if not a daring pilot! "It's the end for you, Federalista!" The South American called as a predatory smile came to sit on his visage, mirrored by the yellow mono-eye of the trainer gouf swiveling over to stare hatefully at the mass produced trash the Federation called a mobile suit. The chunky machinegun held in his hands was brought up and held snugly at the hip, braced for the impact that came seconds later. What could only be described as a cross between a roar and sputtering, metallic cough rattled the ears from the burst of lead spat towards the unit anchoring the Federation line. Each round was big enough to open a main battle tank like a can of sardines, and he was both terrified and amused at the reckless abandon in which they hurled this ordnance at one another. Lt. Elrod was not alone in his earliest sentiments, being able to wield such power against a detestable foe was exhilarating in the extreme. But what kinship they shared ended as briefly as it began with that lone thought. Instinct told him to use this close-combat focused machine and bring them into heated melee, but for now he held back, not wanting to leave his allies exposed by being reckless. While he lacked what could be called a "formal training regimen", the school of hard knocks had taught him harshly that battle was not won by sole men being heroes, but by everyone working in tandem. Machine: MS-07A Gouf Main Weapon: 105mm Machine Gun Secondary Weapon: Heat sword Type-βIV Equipment: Gouf Shield
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Bixir
Principality of Zeon
Green as Doom
Posts: 7
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Post by Bixir on Sept 24, 2014 21:06:31 GMT
Rand TyvinPrincipality of ZeonAtop the Dodai BombersFailure. It was a bitter dreg that for nearly all his life, Rand had been unfamiliar with. As much difficulty as he had had with his father, prior to joining the Zeon forces on Earth, where he truly belonged, Rand had never truly wanted for anything, and what he did ask for, he was typically granted. What he strove for, he eventually reached, and even exceeded. No one had ever denied him in his goals, least of all himself. He had more than proven that he was a refined Zeon soldier, someone who knew his way around a Mobile Suit, and would surely be of potent use in the North American front. Rand had believed that himself more than anyone else. And, so far, his bravado had continued to ring true. And in his defining moment, Rand tasted failure in its complete despair and futility. He could not protect the Captain, their commanding officer that had led them to glorious victory, and the guiding force behind Gorgon Team. He could not protect Ronin, or Kim, and when she needed him... them. when she needed them, they turned their back on her, as they were ordered, and retreated. The Rand that he knew would have spat in the name of the retreat, and gotten Kim out of there, one way or another, even if he had to give up his life for hers. But that was not what had happened. Rand vividly remembered, with tears in his eyes and a terrible burden on his chest, turning his Zaku away from Kim's, and getting upon one of the Dodais that had come to their temporary 'rescue', if you could call it that. That couldn't have been Rand Tyvin, the young man that breathed, lived, and would one day die with Zeon in his heart... Who was piloting this Mobile Suit, really? For now, it was a technicality that Rand would have to accept, the spacenoid instead paying surprisingly rapt attention to the jarring pseudo-briefing from the Dodai pilots, bringing the Zaku pilots back into the reality of their situation. Rand did not offer a reply like Tristan, letting out a heavy, forlorn sigh as he tightened his controls and senses, and steeled himself once more for combat... combat without Gorgon Team, save one other surviving squadmate. He was kidding himself, of course. Gorgon Team was finished. A few moments laterRand TyvinPrincipality of ZeonDodai DropzoneAs conflicted as Rand was within himself, it was clear that his soldier's instinct was still ready as ever. His Zaku II leapt off his side of the Dodai at practically the same time as Tristan's Zaku Cannon, taking a careful perspective of the battlefield before dropping down to the ground below. Rand wasn't sure what to feel right now, and even if he did, what he would make of it. The only thing that Rand was certain of, was the brooding violence and destruction he would visit upon all of these Feddies and their sorry excuse for Mobile Suits. Logic or reasoning had nothing to do with this sentiment. It was simply the way of war. Rand remained completely silently as Tristan went about his first maneuvers in entering the fray and engaging both their fellow spacenoids and the scum earthnoids, with seemingly confident speaking and overwhelming firepower in equal measure. His Zaku II moved to focus itself on the rear bulk of the advancing Federation, namely firing upon the Type 61 closest to their drop-in position with his 120-millimeter. While the Feddies were somewhat aware of this sudden blitz, the element of surprise was still on Rand and Tristan's side, to some extent. The former intended to make full use of that, as he seemed to charge headlong against the Federation flank. The GM behind it would be next, and the first Mobile Suit that he intended to cleave in two. His limited experiences with Federation Mobile Suits in the past had almost exclusively been from a distance, and very narrowly missed opportunities with his Heat Hawk. Not this time. This time he would watch the life leave the putrid, mechanical shell firsthand. Model: MS-06J Zaku Ground Type Primary Weapon: 120mm Machine Gun Secondary Weapon: Heat Hawk Type5 Equipment: Sturm Faust x2
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Post by Darkapostle222 on Sept 27, 2014 17:45:20 GMT
The shock value of the sudden arrival of the Gorgon Team remnants wore off rather quickly. Sure Zeon reinforcements were unexpected, but it was clear the the Federation troops had the advantage in terms of numbers and sheer firepower. While they might've been inexperienced, the Federation pilots knew that odds were heavily in their favor. They weren't going to just turn tail and run now. Yuan's GM wasn't just about to sit there and take a shot from the cannon Tristan had pointed at him. As the shoulder-mounted weapon spat out a shell the Federation Mobile Suit was quick to sidestep it in order to cause it to land behind him harmlessly. Unfortunately that walked him straight into the fire from Tristan's bazooka. While Yuan's shield absorbed the worst of the rocket, the ensuing explosion caused it to shatter as its top half was blown off. Still, Yuan wasn't defeated just yet. Raising his 100mm Machine Gun, he spat off steady bursts of fire at Tristan's immobile Zaku as they tried to maneuver in a way that he could flank the Zaku Cannon. Having dropped the weight of its now useless shield, the GM managed to pick up far greater speed than it had before as it marched along. Rand, meanwhile, had far more success in his choice of targets. Slow to turn around in the face of the new hostiles, the Type 61 that he fired upon was easily torn apart by the powerful shells of the machinegun. It's metal shell ruptured in a belch of black smoke and fire as it was utterly destroyed by the Zeon Mobile Suit. Still, the Federation troops were quick to retaliate. Turning their attention from the fortifications they had initially been attacking, many of the Federal troops now chose to prioritize this new threat. The Mass-Production Guntanks, Type 61s and GMs unleashed a volley of machine gun and cannon fire on the new arrivals, large plums of dirt being thrown up all around them as the rounds tore up the ground. Even the Dodais came under threat, one of them catching a GM's machine gun shell in the cockpit and spinning out of control before slamming into the ground with a tremendous detonation. ---------------------------------------- Lt. Jeremy Elrod Earth Federation Center of Federation Battle Group"So it looks like you bastards still have some fight in you, huh?" snarled Elrod as he surveyed the scene in front of him. It seemed that the arrival of the new Zekes had somewhat rallied what was left of the original defenders and they were now re-applying the pressure.He knew it was all in vain thought. They had not come this far to lose now. Even as some of the units behind him turned to focus on the flankers, Jeremy focused his attention on clearing out those still fighting in the fort. Tanks on either side of the fighting were torn apart by the furious back-and-forth fire, their contributions being all but nil. It would be clear to any observer that what truly mattered in this battle were the Mobile Suits. Hissing in anger as he took fire from what appeared to be a blue Zaku and a Zaku Cannon, Jeremy used a blast of his thrusters to help save him from being torn apart. Luckily his team was quick to lend its support to him, one of GMs using it's bazooka to blow apart the Zaku Cannon's torso in a ball of fire. That didn't stop one of the remaining Zaku IIs from returning the favor in kind, a cry of alarm sounding over the comms as one of the newbies on his team was an explosive end. None of that mattered to him, however. Just as Augusto had successfully identified that he was the commander so too had Jeremy recognized that he was most likely in charge of the defense. Zeon officers always liked to mark themselves out with gaudy colors or dumb looking horns on their Mobile Suits. In his mind it only served to make them bigger targets. Charging forward with his large shield protecting his GM's body, Jeremy opened fire on Augusto's machine. Glowing tracer fire flew through the air towards the Zeke, supported by similar fire from the remaining Tanks and Mobile Suits. He knew that if he could finish this guy off he could completely shatter the enemy's morale. All it would take is one good shot. ---------------------------------------- Map Key: 79 = RGM-79 GM 75mp = RX-75 Guntank Mass Production Type M61 = Type 61 MBT
06J = MS-06J Zaku II Ground Type YS = Dodai YS MA = HT-01B Magella Attack
Grey Lines = Concrete Defensive Wall
Zeon: 1 = Tristan Kimblee 2 = Rand Tyvin 3 = Augusto Almeida
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Richter
Principality of Zeon
Posts: 6
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Post by Richter on Oct 8, 2014 9:09:15 GMT
Lt. Augusto Almeida Principality of Zeon Front-center of the Zeonic LinesAlmeida took stock of the explosions that flared up around him, watching those with his peripheral vision so that the majority of his attention was focused on Jeremy and his mobile suit. He gave an annoyed 'tch' at the subpar performance of his first attack run, and that of one of the units that supported him in firing on the leader of the Federals. His backwards-facing cameras registered an explosion at his 6 not long after, and he grimly noted that said supporting unit, the zaku cannon that had been here throughout the battle, would be doing so no longer. It wasn't the only one, those aforementioned blasts being all that remained of some unlucky tanks on both sides. At least theirs had escape pods via their flying turrets, he hoped some had the reflexes to bail out before being slagged - but for now he didn't really have time to ponder that. His target was a lively one and the opposing Lieutenant seemed to not want to let him rest. Which was just fine with him. Mirroring the same maneuver Jeremy made, Augusto kicked the Gouf's thrusters and skidded ahead towards the 11-o'clock. Deep furrows were torn into the earth by the toes of his machine as it lifted just short of the whole way into the air, by design, as he did not want to ruin his momentum by bracing for the impact at jump's end. The blue and black shield strapped to his unit's forearm was raised while doing this, allowing what bullets he couldn't dodge to bury themselves in the super-dense steel frame with terrible *bings* and *bangs*. The heavy shells bored craters into its formerly smooth exterior, faintly evoking images of the lunar surface. The rebel opened up a quick channel to the defenders around him, an encrypted one unlike the prior signal cast by Tristan. At the moment the Zeonic troops had little to their advantage outside those concrete walls that roughly half of their forces were bunkered down behind, so they might as well take advantage of it. ++ Brothers, peel back to the fort. We're barreled fish out here on the fields, make yourselves scarce while they're reacting to our knights in shining armor, eh? I'll buy you the time. ++The motivation for this came when the pilot noticed that all but the closest salient of the Federal lines had turned away from them, so that meant that this is the best chance they'd get to make an orderly retreat back behind the shelter of those walls. It wouldn't help for beans against those artillery pieces, but for now they were busy with the ace duo that had dropped nearby; dangerously close to them, in fact. He hoped that problem would solve itself, if not, well...he'd deal with it then. For now he had to help his comrades save their skin, and that nicely complemented his desire to keep the heat on Elrod. The current momentum of the suit continued to take it forward at a diagonal slant, facing towards the northern-most GM. Aiming to pull off a feint, he stopped abruptly about halfway to reaching that mobile suit, hunkered down like a football player, and then arced his thrusters straight towards Jeremy and punched them for everything they were worth. Engines roared like a hungry predator, and the machine launched towards its true target like an angel soaring on wings of fire; with those 'dumb looking horns' leveled right towards the center of mass, to bring the two charging machines together in a bone-jarring collision. Almeida fully hoped he'd use that big clunky shield to block him, and get rammed right off his feet. Or if not that, sidestep and let him blaze by and wind up right next to those guntanks. Best case scenarios, granted, but hope had to play into any soldier's schemes somewhere. The true objective here was to draw fire from the rest of the Feddies that had him and his men in their sights, pulling it to himself and remaining close enough to them that they risked fragging one another from proximity - particularly that one with the bazooka whom had totaled one of their MS just seconds before. Supposing that failed, well, he had some solutions in mind. This was a man that wasn't afraid to get creative to slip the noose. Machine: MS-07A Gouf Main Weapon: 105mm Machine Gun Secondary Weapon: Heat sword Type-βIV Equipment: Gouf Shield
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Bixir
Principality of Zeon
Green as Doom
Posts: 7
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Post by Bixir on Oct 9, 2014 9:03:47 GMT
Rand Tyvin Principality of Zeon Rear Flank of Federation Forces
Rand's will and senses were iron, and focused almost entirely on what lied directly in front of him; this included the Type 61 that was quite literally blown away by his 120-millimeter, his Zaku II charging right through it like it hadn't even been there in the first place, kicking up another fresh billow of smoke to the carnage that he was beginning to pave into the enemy rear. This path was of course leading into the RGM-79 not far behind it, his intended target. Everything else, from the Feddies advancing on the Zeonic forces that they had come to assist in the first place, to his comrade Tristan that had begun to come under fire, didn't register to the pilot for even a single moment. Nothing would derail Rand from the target before him, nor him from carrying out his duty. He had failed for the last time. The fact that the Mobile Suit that Rand was targeting happened to be the one that was also attempting to engage and disable Tristan's Zaku Cannon was a complete and utter coincidence.
Wordlessly, Rand's gestures over his controls were precise and like lightning, his Zaku moving as nimbly as it could amid all of the fire that was headed their way. He used the smoke cover from the plentiful artillery fire around them, as well as what his Zaku added to the mix, to provide a makeshift cover for himself. Combined with his Zaku's maneuverability as he closed in on the enemy Mobile Suit, Rand had no intention of letting himself be kept from his fate so easily. Once Rand was within range, his Zaku II's Heat Hawk instantly moved in for a blitz of a horizontal slash clean through Yuan's GM's exposed torso. His shield had been helplessly blown apart by Tristan's shot, wide open to a fatal melee attack, and Rand was ready to pay him in kind. His eyes were like that of some forlorn and distant predator, focused only on the enemy in front of him, that he was about to send to oblivion; or so he intended.
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Post by PicklesInYourJar on Oct 19, 2014 16:02:54 GMT
Tristan Kimblee Principality of Zeon Rear Flank of Earth Federation Forces
Tristan wasn't discouraged in the least by the fact that the Federation GM had managed to avoid destruction at the cost of it's shield, in fact that was an achievement in itself. Some would say that he'd come up empty, but he was perfectly contented with the result he got. As the Federation GM brought up it's arm, allowing it's Machine Gun spat out it's rounds in retaliation from Tristan's earlier attack, he angled his mobile suit towards the right, in order to bring forward it's shoulder and it's shoulder shield with the intent of soaking up some of the rounds as he disengaged from the initial conflict and created space for himself. In the immediate past, Tristan might've traded fire with the Federation as he moved into better positioning, but maybe it was the memory of what had happened not too long ago that made him more...... passive in a sense. Instead he used his shield for all it was worth, of course he was trying to be slightly evasive so he wouldn't overcompensate with the shield either. As he began backpedaling using short serpentine patterns bolstered by conservative use of his thrusters, as he tried to take the weight of his Mobile Suit into consideration. Moving into what he'd would consider ideal position for himself, attempting to put himself little more into his own optimal range as well as further away from Rand, the intention was to make himself harder to hit with GM Machine Gun fire, which would allow him to salt and pepper the battlefield with his 180mm shells and shots from the Bazooka. Using his Monoeye's 360 degree display, Tristan gave the battlefield a quick once over, trying to analyze the developments he saw, gritting his teeth as he caught sight of a Zaku Cannon much like himself being blown to bits by the Earth Federation Forces. The lost of the Zaku Cannon, that was so identical to himself brought back all to familiar feelings, one he'd felt in it's full intensity for the first time, not even a few hours ago. But unlike before, he wasn't consumed with the same intense feeling of failure and loss at the death of another Zeonic Brother, instead he the same intense anger building inside him, he'd never felt this way before not even at home. When he'd started the battles as a Principality Pilot, The Earth Federation had become faceless enemies, it was because of this that he'd felt no animosity or hatred towards them fighting, indifferently albeit effectively, but the last few months had served to sow the seeds of both in his heart.
It never escaped his notice that the commander of the Earth Federation forces had begun to advance across the Front-Lines to engage to pilot of the Gouf, he could only decipher this on the account that their was only one Mobile advancing across the lines in that particular manner. Whatever the pilot of the Gouf's name was, they strategically moved diagonally, cleverly using the large burrows for makeshift cover. It was a impressive showing of mobility, Tristan could always admire movements like those since he couldn't make them in that manner with his own Mobile Suit. From the Adjacent corner of his Monoeye, happening at relatively the same time, he also noticed that Rand had begun to move against the GM that he'd targeted earlier, whatever he'd given that pilot, it had still come at the cost of his shield an incredibly valuable battle commodity. Weighing his options in milliseconds, he'd decided that he couldn't risk hitting the Gouf by targeting the Type 61 and Guntanks that were closer to him now that he'd moved into the fray, instead he bolstered Rand's assault by focusing on the Type 61 furthest to the left and GM that were in front of them both with proper focus, using his Monoeye he didn't even wait for it to signal that he'd acquired his target before he let off a rocket from his Bazooka at it, this was followed by a quick burst from his thruster that pushed him towards the left not wishing to stay an immobile target. He hoped that his rocket could take advantage of the split second that they would be focused on Rand as he attempted to take the shieldless Federation GM. Repeating, he took another shot with his Bazooka as this time, before moving with another controlled burst of his thruster, nothing extravagant a simple diagonal movement that could save lives, avoiding any attempted retaliatory fire as best he could as he prepared his Cannon for use.
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Post by Darkapostle222 on Oct 29, 2014 3:53:14 GMT
Tristan and Rand's moves, while perhaps not planned, worked in coordination with one another. Charging towards the GM that had lost its shield, Rand's Zaku became an easy target for the Federation troops that had coming in to reinforce. Seeing the running Zeon Mobile Suit cross their path, the GM and the two tanks coming to support it were given a clear shot at their enemy and would've certainly torn Rand apart through concentrated fire. The explosion that resulted from Tristan's bazooka annihilating one of the tanks, however, stalled them in their tracks. Most Federation Mobile Suit pilots were total rookies and this pilot seemed to be no exception. Startled by the death of the tank and the near-miss of the second bazooka shot, the GM began to retreat towards friendly forces leaving the remaining tank little choice but to do the same. Still, that didn't mean Tristan was safe. Taking note of the firepower the Zaku Cannon was bringing to bear, the two Guntanks began to blast away with their powerful shoulder cannons. Though the first shells landed well short of Tristan, the subsequent ones crawled close and closer as they zeroed in on him. It was becoming clear that if the Zeon pilot didn't do something he would be blown to smithereens, his Mobile Suit's armor or shield offering no protection to the powerful artillery cannons. While this happened, Yuan was completely unaware that he was about to be attacked. Confident that his back was covered, he didn't notice Rand's approach until the last moment when a siren in his cockpit alerted him to the threat. Spinning around as quickly as his machine to allow him to, he fired his GM's head vulcans at the Zaku's head. Though the bullets wouldn't be enough to cause any real damage to the Mobile Suit, he hoped that his opponent would try to protect his vulnerable main camera. Either way, his actions allowed him to avoid being sliced open by the Zaku's heat axe. Yuan did not, however, fully escape harm as Rand's axe struck the Federation Mobile Suit's extended forearm. After a moment of resistance the super heated blade managed to cut through the layers of metal, chopping off the lower part of the limb. The machine gun held in its hand spat ammo uselessly into the air as the hand holding it fell to the ground, the hand still squeezing it tightly when it had been severed. The Federation pilot wasn't totally beaten yet, however. Taking advantage of the exposed position that Rand's swing had left him in, Yuan was quick to draw his beam saber with his Mobile Suit's remaining hand. The bright pink energy blade springing to life immediately, he brought it down towards the Zaku's head, ready to slice Rand in half. Meanwhile the actions of Rand, Tristan and Augusto were giving the remaining Zeon forces the opportunity they needed. Drawing the attention of most, if not all, of the Federation tanks and Mobile Suits, they gave an opening through which the remaining defenders could retreat behind their fortifications. Though the process wasn't flawless, one Magella Attack being taken out by a vigilant Type 61 gunner, the vast majority were able to take cover behind what was left of their defenses from which they'd be able to strike back. ---------------------------------------- Lt. Jeremy Elrod Earth Federation Center of Federation Battle GroupJeremy clicked his teeth in irritation as the blue Zaku seemingly turned its focus from him to one of the pilots under his command. At first he had been impressed by the enemy pilot and the way he had charged into certain death in order to save his comrades, building a fair amount of respect for such a selfless soldier, but that quickly turned into irritation. Jeremy couldn't help be feel that his enemy was taking advantage of the general inexperience of most Federation Mobile Suit pilots and was annoyed that it seemed to be working. Startled by the charging enemy, the GM that had been supporting the Lieutenant began to resort panic fire with its machine gun. The majority of the frantic shots didn't land anywhere near Augusto and those that did were absorbed by his rapidly crumbling shield. Still, the Zeon pilot's actions left it so that Jeremy and the nearby tanks couldn't open fire without risk of hitting their ally. Following after the blue Zaku, Jeremy was caught off-guard when it suddenly turned around and charged straight into him, causing him to cry, "Shit!"With no time to evade, the Federation officer was forced to take the hit on his shield. The momentum was too much for the GM alone to handle, causing to Mobile Suit off its feet and throwing it backward. Still, Jeremy wasn't beaten yet. With a snarl of anger he activated the thrusters on his machine's back and feet, blue flames flaring and applying a countering force to what was threatening to throw him on his back. Coming down with a thud, the GM's feet dug deep trenches into the ground as it came to a halt. "Not bad you bastard," grunted Jeremy as his Mobile Suit once more raised his horribly dented, but still solid, shield, "But I'm not done yet!"Augusto wound now find himself surrounded by Federation units, all with their weapons aimed squarely at him. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place for sure and would need to take drastic action if he didn't want to be ripped apart by enemy fire. ---------------------------------------- Map Key: 79 = RGM-79 GM
75mp = RX-75 Guntank Mass Production Type
M61 = Type 61 MBT
06J = MS-06J Zaku II Ground Type
YS = Dodai YS
MA = HT-01B Magella Attack
Grey Lines = Concrete Defensive Wall Zeon: 1 = Tristan Kimblee 2 = Rand Tyvin 3 = Augusto Almeida
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Richter
Principality of Zeon
Posts: 6
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Post by Richter on Nov 6, 2014 1:23:54 GMT
Lt. Augusto Almeida Principality of Zeon Front-center of the Zeonic LinesThe rebel earthnoid guffawed heartily as the two titanic machines smashed together, the force of impact enough to splinter bones if not pulverize them into dust completely, or so it would be if he weren't in his nicely insulated cockpit. Even so the rattling and rolling just about threw him out of his chair, with only his harness and a white-knuckled grip on the controls keeping him from being flung to and fro like a rag doll. After all, he had been anticipating such a reaction and naturally had time to brace for it. A normal person's head would probably be pounding after being jerked around so forcefully, and while he was such a normal person - in his current chem addled state the rush and flow of combat only heightened the experience as the intoxicating rush of adrenaline fired anew. But oh man, all backlogged hurt would probably be catching up to him in a couple of hours. That was the absolute last thing on Almeida's mind at the moment, however. The camera's facing backwards allowed him to watch the scrabbling of his allies to get behind the concrete ramparts during his assault, and that pleased him to see. Other auxiliary cameras monitored the actions of both Jeremy and, further to his right hand side, the aces that dropped from on high. They didn't get much more than a passing glance to ascertain that they weren't dead. While Augusto didn't want to leave them to dry, he kind of had his hands full right now. That was why his eyes focused first on the GM and tank moving to flank him, while the lieutenant launched himself back to his feet with a shot of his rear thrusters, complete with a new gouf-shaped impression in his slab-steel shield. "Haha! That look suits you," he spoke aloud to himself after having a short chuckle, "but I'd rather that dent have been in your torso. Not too shabby, Feddie."Now came the fun part of getting out of this one. With a green pilot and a tank to his left, he had planned his route of departure before even beginning his charge. The fact that his own shield was basically jagged scrap by now worried him somewhat, but it did its job admirably until now. "Perhaps you can still be of use to me..." The pilot again commented, a wry grin tugging at the corners of his lips, as his eyes glanced first to the twisted edges marring his shield's exterior, and then towards the coast. One thing was for certain, he was not going to Jeremy box him in and for that reason he took full advantage of him needing to bring his GM back into a standing posture to make haste away from the canny opponent. The legs of the gouf buckled as Almeida brought his machine into another crouch, as if going to go for another rush. But he did not, instead kicking off at the last second, flaring the thrusters around his knees and ankles to assist in launching him towards, and over, the sole type 61 tank on his side of the battlefield. A thrumming, metallic sound of bolts unsealing thundered in synchronization down the left arm of his mobile suit; the one holding the shield. With a flick of that limb as the last bolt unscrewed, he tossed the somewhat disc-like chunk of metal into the air, seizing it in the same hand just as he landed back on the earth with a small tremor from 30+ tons of machinery thumping succumbing to gravity's embrace one more. "Here's my calling card!" Augusto announced, and hurled the remains of his shield straight at the tank. While such a crude weapon would likely not do much more than cause a GM to stumble, the smaller size and thinner armor of a tank meant that several tons of steel hawked with the strength of a melee-ms would probably be quite lethal if not dodged. But he was fine too if it was forced to kick itself into gear, it'd buy the others more time before needing to face its guns. By now they might start to get the idea that they weren't facing a soldier out of any academy, because this particular 'spacenoid' seemed very quick on the draw when it came to using unconventional maneuvers. Regardless of the outcome he flared all of his thrusters a second time and pointed them down and back, again rocketing above the ground, away from his foes and towards the water. Warnings flared on a few screens that he didn't bother to read, probably about heat build up from overtaxing the unit's afterburners - they'd just have to hold up for a short while more. Once above the murky blue water he immediately cut his jets and let the titanic machine smash into the drink with a mighty surge of spray into the air to accompany, no small amount of liquid having been displaced by the descent of the gouf. This was a machine custom tailored for earth combat, and while he'd never actually tested to see if it was completely water proofed, he wasn't that concerned. If it flooded in the few minutes he'd be down here, it'd drain just as fast. Regardless he went far enough out to submerge the machine, but wasn't going to try and find its test depth the hard way, one could say. To the pair of Zakus that had rode in on dodai, this might be bear some very unfortunate resemblance to what happened to their commanding officer just before they got here. Of course, the South American had no way to know that ahead of time. The goal here was rather simple, the guerrilla had hoped to put Jeremy and his own folks in a rocky situation; reversing the seemingly fortunate trap they were trying to catch him in a moment prior. They'd either have to waste time trying to suppress him for when he inevitably broke the surface, leaving their flank open to the gunline now facing them behind the walls, or turn their flank to Almeida and try to keep pressure on his comrades behind the barricades. In truth he was hoping more for the former, and at least was hopeful that his allies would be able to take advantage of him being out of the firing line to let Elrod and the people in his vicinity have a good fusillade. If nothing else, everyone being behind cover would probably help moral, or that was his hope. At any rate one thing he had learned very early on was that water was an amazing shield against munitions, especially high caliber, high velocity ones like those machine guns they were using. As a jungle rebel, the rivers and swamps were their greatest ally when it came to both hiding from Federals, and escaping them. What Augusto hoped was that they wouldn't think about that and waste time on him. But even if not he figured he was safe enough for the next few seconds, and would be able to punish them for whichever choice they made regardless of what it was. Machine: MS-07A Gouf Main Weapon: 105mm Machine Gun Secondary Weapon: Heat sword Type-βIV Equipment: none
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Bixir
Principality of Zeon
Green as Doom
Posts: 7
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Post by Bixir on Nov 16, 2014 18:59:14 GMT
Rand Tyvin Principality of Zeon Rear Flank of Federation Forces
As Rand finished closing in to his target, his sensors and his own reflexes alerted him to the vulcan hailfire that the GM sent his way in a panicked effort to keep him at bay. As much as he wanted to simply brush it off and continue in his attack, it could very well damage his mono-eye and utterly damn him for the rest of this combat. Quickly raising his free arm, it absorbed the brunt of the sudden attack, his headlong charge coming to a slow as a result, though by this time he was close enough to the target for it not to be a concern.
...though the abrupt beam saber would be. Grunting and gritting his teeth in profound annoyance and surprise, Rand quickly stopped the reckless assault maneuver he had been planning to do all along, instead shifting into a more mobile gear. While it struggled to do so, the Zaku managed to shift its position at a sharp bank, turning it away from the very narrow downward slash of the beam saber, and to the GM's very exposed side. Without a moment to lose, his body completely rigid with raw, destructive emotion, Rand's Zaku swung its Heat Hawk in a blindside swipe into the GM's side that was now vacant of an arm that might otherwise have been used to try and stop his Heat Hawk. Fortunately, Rand was positioned away from Almeida's engagement, also far too invested in his own battle to realize the similarity of his maneuver with Waltz's recent demise. He couldn't afford to think about that right now.
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Post by PicklesInYourJar on Nov 17, 2014 9:36:50 GMT
Tristan Kimblee Principality of Zeon Rear Flank of Earth Federation Lines
Turning his focus almost immediately to the two remaining Guntanks, He'd managed to take out one of them with the a well placed bazooka shot resulting in a small explosion that left little trace of the Guntank, let alone it's pilot. Taking notice that the Guntank's Shoulder Cannon were aimed at him, Tristan realized that while they were not as experienced as him, the shots themselves were becoming more and more accurate as they were zeroing in on him, meaning he couldn't afford to be a stationary target, lest he wants to be torn apart by those shoulder cannons. Thinking quickly, Tristan began to move backwards from the Guntanks, starting to backpedaled out of their range as he used his camera's display to lock on to the Guntank directly across from him, he'd preemptively prepared a potential next move not that long ago, now it hinged on how he executed in the next few moments.
By now he'd began formulate a plan of action as another shell planted itself in the ground harmlessly, causing a powerful shock to resonate with his Mobile Suit due to how close it landed to him. As the shock subsided within his Zaku, he waited between the shots to regain his balance before engaging his thruster, propelling himself on a cutting route that would put him behind Rand, with the intent of putting both Guntanks perfectly within his narrowed cone-like field of vision, along with the Federation GMs and the accompanying Type 61s " Alright, this is for you guys" Tristan said to no one in particular as his mind momentarily led him to Ronan, Kim and Captain Waltz. He was primed and ready for a counterattack, as he began tightening his grasp of the controls more and more tightly, leaning forward slightly as he tightening his field of vision on the two guntanks that were attempting to assault him with extreme focus.
Words of wisdom flooded into Tristan's mind as he aimed his already primed Zaku Shoulder Cannon squarely on the chest Guntank farthest behind the Type 61s, ++Move in! Don't get stuck in a firefight with those artillery machines! One hit from those things and you can kiss your ass goodbye!++ The words he'd heard spoken to Kim not that long ago echoed in his mind as he took his first shot without moment's hesitation, his breath held and his aim steady, mirroring his earlier practices with supremely confident in his aim, believing that he would not miss and that he could only be avoided.
Couldn't help but wonder if he would've been making Captain Waltz proud now, If his actions now would have received praise from his newly departed C.O. He immediately snapped his aim to the other Guntank ++ just provide as much cover as you can!++ More words of wisdom resounded in his mind, this time aimed at Ronan, after Kim had taken a spill, it was a funny thing. He was his C.O just as much as theirs, but all he could remember was the interactions they'd had with each other, and the words that Captain Waltz had spoken to them. it wasn't that Captain Waltz had never given Tristan any of these words of wisdom, in fact he remembered that Waltz had talked to him about not being a stationary target, it was just that Tristan followed them to the letter like they all did, but he'd push them from his mind as he focused on the Battlefield, always believing that Waltz would be there. With little pause between his first Cannon shot, Tristan like a precise shot rip from his Bazooka at the other Guntank, hoping that lady luck would be on his side and he could manage two for one, as he tore the Guntanks apart.
After his counter, he managed to regain his balance again and before beginning to move again, following his late C.O's advice to the letter as he'd always done, he would live on in the memories of his C.O as well as his former Squad-mates. It was a strange feeling but now he wanted to make more of a mark under the banner of the Gorgon Squad, before he'd hated the name with an intense passion because he believed it was painting an unnecessary target on himself and his squad-mates, now it was all he had left besides Rand, because it was the only thing he'd shared with them all. He began surveying the battle field again, knowing that he wouldn't be able to utilize the Bazooka for much longer as he only had so many shots left, once he would have to change his approach. Doing what he could to avoid various artillery strikes, while using his shield to soak up the machine gun rounds, he was in time to catch a scene very familiar to him, the scene of the Blue Gouf sinking into the murky waters. Wide-eyed in his cockpit, Tristan was slightly taken aback, he was so absorbed in what he was doing that never saw him take a hit, in fact he couldn't remember if he had or not. Regardless, it did not impact Tristan as deeply as Waltz demise had. Coldly he turned his focus wholehearted back to the battle at hand, and attempting to turn the tides. He didn't notice that it was a ploy by the savvy veteran pilot..... But it stirred something inside of him that he'd been trying to push down and ignore for a few hours now, words that hurt him almost more than anything his father had said to him before.... "If anything, Ensign Kimblee I'd say that you are the type to abandon your comrades on the battlefield to die, after all why should you help a bunch of soldiers...." He swallowed another lump in his throat as the last words hit him with finality...."I hope you enjoy your badge of honor Tristan. Perhaps it will be enough to console you when all of your teammates wind up dead because of you..." It was almost enough to make him sick, he'd allowed Ronin and Captain Waltz to die and he'd even abandoned Kim when she needed them the most, he couldn't allow it to happen a second time, he couldn't let his incompetence cost him anymore than it already had.
Machine: MS-06K Zaku Cannon Type
Main Weapon: ZMP-50D 120mm Machine Gun (100 Round Drum)
Secondary Weapon/Hand Shield: H&L-SB25K A-P 280mm Zaku Bazooka
Sub Weapon: 180mm Shoulder Cannon
Sub Weapon: 2-Tube Rocket Launcher
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Post by Darkapostle222 on Dec 14, 2014 0:19:08 GMT
Though Rand's quick actions saved his life, they couldn't completely spare him from the deadly energy of the GM's beam saber, especially when their machines were so close to one another. The GM's sword came down in a vertical slice that caught the outermost layers of his shoulder shield. The super-heated beam cut through the corner of the shield's "L" shape, knifing through layer after layer of thick super-hard steel alloy and severing the shield in half and making it useless as a defense in the future. Yuan, however, was not as fortunate. Rand had escaped with his machine's functionality intact and the swing of his Heat Hawk had little trouble landing home. The glowing orange blade slammed into the GM's side with shuddering force and stalled for a moment before the heat from the weapon built up enough to cook through the Federation Mobile Suit's armor. With an almost sickening slowness (though in truth it occurred within a few seconds), the Zaku's axe cut deep into the GM's waist before becoming wedged in the enemy machine's cockpit. Having thought he was safe within his Mobile Suit, Yuan's eyes went wide with horror as the right wall of his cockpit began to glow orange as the Heat Hawk cut into it. Watching as blade slowly emerged from the metal and edged closer and closer too him, he scrambled in the all-too-cramped confines of cockpits for some route of escape, letting out a horrifying death scream as he was bisected by the Heat Hawk, Yuan's cries could be heard by all Federation troops and Rand as well through the physical-link that connected their machines' comms. Meanwhile Tristan's long-range duel with the Guntanks continued in earnest. While the Federation machines certainly had the advantage in sheer firepower, Tristan's Zaku Cannon had one major advantage: mobility. Watching as the shell fired from the Zaku Cannon's shoulder-weapon closed in on him, the pilot of the farthest Guntank attempted some evasive maneuvers to try and save himself from death. It's tread whining in protest as they spun, the Guntank tried to turn itself out of the way of the incoming munition. Unfortunately for the pilot he was not fast enough. Tristan's shell slammed into the pack on the Guntank's pack that housed all of the machine's heavy munitions. All of the explosives went critical at once thanks to the impact, the entire Mobile Suit vanishing in a massive explosion that shook the entire battlefield. While not as successful, the shot from Tristan's bazooka still managed to strike one of the remaining Guntank's arms, blasting up in a shower of sparks and smoke. Panicking, the pilot through his Mobile Suit into full reverse. Treads kicking up a large cloud of dust as they tore across the ground backwards, the Guntank let up a withering, if inaccurate, barrage towards the two Zakus with the repeating machine gun housed in its remaining arm, the last Type-61 during likewise with its cannons as it joined in the retreat. -------------------------------------------
Lt. Jeremy Elrod Earth Federation Center of Federation Battle GroupEverything was going from bad to worse for Lieutenant Elrod. Before he could even fully recover from the shoulder-charge by the blue Zeon MS it had blasted past him. His enemy's proximity to his own GM meant that the troops that had tried to flank the blue MS couldn't fire without the risk of hitting their own commander and it took time for Jeremy's GM to turn around. By the time he did he watched as the remnants of his opponent's shield slammed into one of the Type-61s like a deadly frisbee, causing its armor to buckle and fold as it was nearly cut in half. Then before Jeremy could even draw a bead on his foe once again the pilot had decided to submerge his machine in the nearby waterbed with a tremendous splash, vanishing from sight as it sank into the depths. For a moment Jeremy considered blanketing the water with fire or even chasing the blue MS in but he knew that would be a mistake. He and his remaining forces were now surrounded and way too exposed. "Fuck!"Even as the Federation officer vented his frustration, a series of events gave him pause. The first was the gut-wrenching screams of Yuan as he died, the sound making Jeremy sick to the pit of his stomach as he guessed as to what could have made a man cry out like that. The second was the massive explosion caused by the ammunition of one of the Guntanks cooking off, revealing that even his support units were under threat. Finally a second explosion to his right marked the death of one of the few remaining Type-61s, picked off by the regrouped Zeon troops behind the defensive wall. The situation was really bad. ++Sir! What are your orders?!?++, came the panicked voice of one of the remaining GM pilots. ++What are you MS Jockey's doing!?! We're getting slaughtered over here!++, came the voice of one of the Type-61 tank commanders. ++Sir! We're fucked! We need to withdraw! Please give the order!++, came the sound of the sole-remaining Guntank pilot. Assaulted by this multitude of voices, Jeremy knew he had to come to a decision quickly. Should they keep up their attack and risk annihilation for the chance of victory or should they retreat and fight another day? Sure the numbers were still on their side at the moment his men were suffering from low morale and if those bombers circled back around....Though he knew the spirits of his dead comrades would curse him for his cowardice, Jeremy knew it was his duty to keep his remaining men alive. Though he personally hated the thought of it he knew he had no choice. ++All units, tactical withdrawal! Keep up a suppressive fire and fall back immediately! Don't get caught up trying to win a battle we can't!++
------------------------------------------- Lt. Elrod's orders were followed almost immediately and marked a dramatic change in the temp of the battlefield. Though obviously shaken the remaining Federation troops began to back off away from their Zeon opponents while putting up only enough fire to try and convince them to not follow and seize the initiative. Even Elrod slowly backed away from the water, orienting his machine's shield so that he'd be able to protect himself and his men from an attack from the fortifications or the Zeke hiding in the water. Tasting the chance of victory now that the tables had turned, however, it seemed that not all of the surviving Zeon troops were so eager to let their opponents get away. ++Now's our chance! Let's finish them off!++++Yeah! Let's teach those Federation bastards a lesson! Vengeance for our comrades!++Bounding out of the cover that they had taken refuge behind with thundering strides, the two surviving Zakus seemed intent to chase after the Federation troops. Blinded by their desire for revenge, they charged forward as their weapons frantically spat out ammunition in the hope that they'd manage to try and take down some of those who had seemed so assured in their victory only moments before. ------------------------------------------- Map Key: 79 = RGM-79 GM
75mp = RX-75 Guntank Mass Production Type
M61 = Type 61 MBT
06J = MS-06J Zaku II Ground Type
YS = Dodai YS
MA = HT-01B Magella Attack
Grey Lines = Concrete Defensive Wall
Zeon: 1 = Tristan Kimblee 2 = Rand Tyvin 3 = Augusto Almeida
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Post by PicklesInYourJar on Dec 23, 2014 16:08:21 GMT
It took quite a bit of doing on his part, with a couple of close calls that he'd have rather avoided, but thanks in part to his own with his Mobile Suit he'd managed to defeat not just one Guntank, but both of the Guntanks that had tried to engage him, although his own instincts had caused him to make preparations before he began fighting them, which in turn might've had a lot more to do with this victory of his than he would admit at the moment. Tristan was not satisfied however, while both had been defeated, he'd only managed to destroy one of the them, the other had managed to only be avoid a definitive hit from his bazooka, losing it's arm in a shower of sparks. As the Pilot began to retreat, Tristan could only interpret it one of two ways, either it was in a strategic maneuver to regroup with the others, or the pilot was panicking. Regardless of whether it was the former or the latter, Tristan would have none of it. Increasing his focus now that the other Guntanks was disposed of, Tristan focus his final shots from his Bazooka on the Guntank as he took aim with his Shoulder Cannon, it wouldn't be long before he switched to his modified 120mm Machine Gun. While part of Tristan wished that he had a Heat Hawk so he would have a reason to pursue the Guntank, the developments across the battlefield had made him glad that he didn't over pursue his target. The Earth Federation troops had begun retreat. Tristan could feel it the same as anyone else on the battlefield could, across each battle line, the momentum had shifted completely against the Earth Federation's forces. Even now the fact that this collective of Zeonic Mobile Suits and some critical moments had managed to turn the tide on the Earth Federation and their superior numbers, now instead of pushing them back, the Earth Federation were attempting to blanket themselves with enough fire to make any soldier think twice about pursuing them. That was fine by Tristan, he and Rand had been given the express objective of assisting their allies, ensuring that they weren't wiped out by the aggressively advancing Federation Forces. As he focused on providing suppressive fire, picking off any straggling GMs, or Guntanks with the combination of his Machine Gun and the Shoulder Cannon, including his adversary from earlier. Though he heard something that immediately disturbed him; The bloodthirsty battle-cry of his fellow Zeonic Troops, now emerging from with the Bunker. Just like he'd expected, they'd picked up on the fact that the Earth Federation was retreating, but unfortunately they were not ready to let them leave so easily. If nothing was done, they ran the risk of getting themselves killed. It wouldn't take much to flip the Momentum back the other way. Opening his comm quickly, Tristan would speak with more fire and emotion than he could remember since he'd joined the Principality years ago, saying something he would've expected from CAptain Waltz. More of a senseable approach that he hoped they would sympathize with ++Do Not Pursue, I repeat DO NO PURSUE. Focus simply on pushing them back and settle for ridding the front of Stragglers, for now we need to be focused on regrouping and not Bravado and Bloodlust.++ Tristan did not know how much weight his words would carry as a Ensign, hell he was trying to say it with more conviction than he felt, trying to convince himself just as much them, hoping that his words made enough sense that they would listen. If they did not then he could do nothing but attempt to wipe out the Earth Federation team along side them all, after part of him wanted to destroy them for his own team.
Machine: MS-06K Zaku Cannon Type
Main Weapon: ZMP-50D 120mm Machine Gun (100 Round Drum)
Secondary Weapon/Hand Shield: H&L-SB25K A-P 280mm Zaku Bazooka
Sub Weapon: 180mm Shoulder Cannon
Sub Weapon: 2-Tube Rocket Launcher
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Richter
Principality of Zeon
Posts: 6
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Post by Richter on Dec 26, 2014 11:28:51 GMT
Lt. Augusto Almeida Principality of Zeon Underwater, North of the Federal's positionAlmeida let out the breath that he had been holding for way too long in a drawn out, laborious sigh once his machine had safely submerged beneath the surface of the water. All of his visual sensors showed a distorted, murky, blue-shifted canvas that was the bottom of this body of water. But he did not see that right away, as he first took this short breather to rub his eyes and roll his shoulders, getting a few kinks out in this interlude. He heard no shells bursting above him, so that meant that he was safe for the moment. He couldn't dally long, but getting his second wind was going to be crucial if he was going to finish off the battle. A glance around the smaller screens in his cockpit revealed that pressure levels down here were well within operational limits, and no major leaks were reported. That was good. In truth this little break only took a handful of seconds, even though it felt like much longer. "Alright, let's see how my amigos and the Federalistas are handling themselves..." The lieutenant said as he peered out from below the surface of the water. The sight enthused him greatly, through the muddled images his monoeye was feeding him, it looked like the EFF battle group had been surrounded and began to retreat from the dedicated counterattacks of his side. Or so it looked, and that was important to emphasize since the gouf's sensors were not exactly specifically built to work underwater. He knew that Zeon had deployed several special suits that were, but he never had the dubious fortune of getting to pilot one. While being able to hide like this was useful beyond words, Augusto did not like to think about what it would be like to suffer a cockpit hit when at significant depths. Even if you were wearing a pressurized suit, bailing out would not be very easy at all. Far as he was concerned they could keep them, he liked being able to survive to fight another day, and he imagined he could find his way around a 3 dozen meter fall better than those mariners could find their way to shore if attacked out at sea. What he also noticed was the EFF unit playing it smart, trying to keep their formation coherent as they laid down plenty of covering fire during their withdrawal. A quiet curse was given when he noticed that his rival of the moment had his guard up and aimed right towards the coastline. Smart, he admitted, but he did not like his rivals to be smart. And what he liked even less was when his allies weren't smart, which is precisely what the guerrilla thought when he saw those zakus leap their barricades and move to follow the retreating Federation mobile suits. "Gah! Out of one fire and into another!" He exclaimed, immediately realizing that their move put him in a very bad position. Augusto sighed deeply for the second time. Water was a bad medium for radio communications not specifically modulated to work on lower frequencies, and being it's unlikely they were talking on those bands, he missed the exchange between his comrades and Tristan. Essentially, he had to make his own independent move and hope it was the right one. By now he was pretty certain that Elrod was going to be waiting for him, and he'd likely be eating a salvo from that guy if he broke the surface. On the other hand, that man was extremely dangerous and would likely mulch his allies now that they were now bereft of their concrete fortifications. They'd come too far to let them fall now, but this was certainly a scenario he'd be chewing somebody out over later. These are exactly the kinds of mistakes that he'd seen get good men killed too many times before. But just because he was going to take the bait, doesn't mean he was going to be dumb about it. As any good sniper or ambush-minded soldier knows, you never stay in the same spot and don't attack from where you disappeared. To that effect he slowly moved through the water to his left, basically following after the Federals as they marched. His going was a lot slower being that he had to fight against the water, and along with that he had to make certain he did not trip down here and get himself into a real mess. But lagging behind didn't bother him very much, the range on these guns was impressive, and his objective was more to distract than kill for the moment. It's worth saying he wasn't exactly pursuing himself, just moving into a better position to fire onto his target from an angle, rather than dead on from where he had first hid. "Alright friend, let's see who's quicker on the draw!" The rebel exclaimed, while a gout of water was thrown in all directions by the blue mobile suit breaking through the otherwise glassy surface. In a swift motion showing dedicated practice, he tilted his gun to the side once out of the drink, throwing open the bolt and dumping out the water inside of it to clear the mechanisms. The left hand quickly slammed it shut and chambered a new round, ready for use. Not too different than when he had to do this on foot, really. The target was once again Jeremy, since he was the closest, most dangerous, and blocking his line of sight to all the weaker prey. So he'd just have to do. But Almeida knew that big blocky shield wasn't wholly as big as the GM holding it, so he decided to fight dirty.... ...by sweeping the Feddie MS's ankles with automatic fire, each empty 105mm shell casing causing a small wave of its own as they splashed into the water back to back. Augusto was hoping that he would be too busy trying to cover the vitals of his machine to think to cover the feet. Maybe if he was lucky he'd be able to cripple the commander as he sought to flee, and that would truly be a bitter twist to today's fight. But even if not he just wanted to make the enemy counterpart cover himself and not be able to shoot back at either him, or anyone else - at least not accurately. As far as the gouf went its pilot was very canny in how he emerged. Rather than leap out of the water entirely he just moved into shallower portions in a crouched posture, and stood up to his full height when ready to fire. This brought the head, shoulders (and arms with them of course), and upper part of the torso out of the water. The cockpit portion was still very much below the surface, by design, to take advantage of the water's protective qualities. While it wouldn't be very fun to have the cameras in his head blown off, it would be much better than risking a lucky cockpit shot like his comrades on land had to be wary of. In his case, that was now much less likely for the time being. Machine: MS-07A Gouf Main Weapon: 105mm Machine Gun Secondary Weapon: Heat sword Type-βIV Equipment: none
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